


Faster, Higher, Stronger

by ghostofgatsby, threeplusfire



Category: Hat Films - Fandom
Genre: Absent Parents, Alternate Universe - Olympics, Bad Parenting, Biting, Bruises, Ceramics, Coping, Cuddling/Snuggling, Domestic, Family, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Kissing, Light Bondage, Loss, M/M, Marriage, Minor Character Death, Minor Injuries, Olympic Athletes, Parental Death, Parenthood, Romantic Relationship, Sex, Stockings, Stress, Summer Olympics, Swimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 20:00:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 38,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7859152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostofgatsby/pseuds/ghostofgatsby, https://archiveofourown.org/users/threeplusfire/pseuds/threeplusfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since he was a child, Trott has dreamed of making it to the Olympic stage. Pushing himself to his limits in competitive swimming, he is determined to reach the highest point of athletic achievement: the gold medal podium. But goals aren't always so easy to get to. Trott finds that the greater challenge lies in balancing his life, meeting the demands of his sport, and following his heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Born from watching the Rio 2016 Olympics, a delightful sports AU that grew out of dozens and dozens of emails. The title comes from the Olympic motto of "Citius, Altius, Fortius."
> 
> Warnings for sexual content in this chapter.

**Ghostofgatsby:** So, swimmer Trott. Training during the summer at the single local gym in his tiny home town. He gets up early and swims until the lunch rush crowds the pool, then goes back home for food and a nap. He returns in the late evening to keep training, and rotates his weekends and time between either strength training or running.

Single child of a single parent, and he's gotten estranged from his former high school friends. The people he's sort of cool with at college all live far away, so his summers get pretty lonely. Trott fills his days with time spent at the pool. He can't afford to pay for anything other than the gym membership, can't afford to hire a coach. If he got a job, it would take time out of his training for the August competitions coming up, and he has to be in good shape for his college's Sectional swim meets. He's mid-way through college, and any extra money he saves goes to paying for what his athletic scholarships don't cover. Not that he knows what he's doing with his phys. ed. degree. But he's really good at swimming, knew in high school it would take him far, if he worked hard enough and was lucky enough. Because he's fast, really fast, and sometimes at night he dreams of the highest medal he can get, the greatest accomplishment- gold medals awarded on Olympic podiums.

Trott's days blur into one another. Getting up before dawn, driving to the gym and doing his morning laps in the pool. Lunch comes around, and he goes back home to eat, staring up at the shelf in his childhood bedroom that's loaded with medals and trophies. Napping and then going back to the pool and training until it's dark. His hair perpetually smells of chlorine, and he feels like he lives in the pool more than on land. He's always loved to swim but he needs that goal to reach after. There's no point otherwise.

 

Ross works at his uncle's gym during the summer, mopping the floors and fixing equipment. Same age as Trott, but takes on every job he can to make extra money. Walking the family dogs, babysitting his sister's kids, mowing his old neighbor's lawn. All on top of working at the local gym.

Pretty quickly, he catches on who're the regulars. He's always half asleep when he gets to work, reading through the repairs he needs to make before lunch. His little equipment office is nestled between the pool and the hallway, and he can't help but watch the swimmers through the open door. There's a guy who comes in every day, every morning and night, and swims endlessly. Ross finds himself enraptured watching the motion of his arms cutting through the water, the lines of his shoulders and the way he's freckled and skinny in just about every place. Trott lifts himself out of the pool, bare feet slapping the tiles as he crosses the room towards his towel. Ross may spend a little too long staring, watching the water droplets roll down his back.

Also, the way Trott looks in his tight-ass swim shorts. Very important.

 

One night, Ross is mopping the tile floor around the pool's edge, paying too much attention to Trott instead of what he's doing. Watches Trott get out of the pool, and start to dry off. Normally this is when Ross would look away. He makes panicked jabs with the mop towards the bucket as Trott pulls off his swim cap and starts to turn in his direction. He doesn't want to get caught staring like a creep. But Ross misjudges where the bucket is, and trips over it into the pool with an exclaimed "Shit!" and a splash.

Ross curses himself, embarrassed as he swims to the surface. Sure enough, the swimmer is watching him from the far end of the pool.

Trott takes his goggles off and blinks down at him questioningly. "You alright there, mate?" he asks aloud.

"Fine." Ross splutters, coughing up pool water.

Trott stares at him for a beat too long. "...You sure?"

"Yeah, yeah." Ross looks down at the mop at the bottom of the pool, and sees his white t-shirt and very clingy wet clothes. He blushes and paddles awkwardly to the side of the pool where the ladder is. "I'm fine." He climbs out and rubs a hand over his wet face. His dirty mop water has splashed into the pool, and he makes a disgusted grimace at it.

"Are you the only one who works here? I see you around all the time," the swimmer asks. Ross looks up.

Trott walks over to him, feet squeaking in his flip-flops. His goggles and swim cap dangle from his hand and his towel is draped around his neck.

"My uncle does as well, but mostly in the gymnasium and weight room. I'm in charge of the poolside stuff," he answers, "I'm Ross, by the way." He holds out a hand.

Trott shakes it, smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "You're also soaked, Ross." He gives a pointed look towards Ross' clothes. "I'm Chris, but I go by Trott."

"Yeah, well. Hah. Trott, huh?" Ross lets go of Trott's wrinkled hand before he embarrasses himself further, holding onto it for longer than necessary.

"Last name. Got used to being called it because of high school sports."

Ross nods. "You're here all the time, too. It's almost like you're squatting here." He leaves out the part of "I watch you swim all the time, you're really fast" because he's already maxing out the creep factor today.

Trott laughs, but there's a twinge of something sad in the sound. "Yeah...sometimes it feels like that to me, too," he says with a tight-lipped smile. Trott brushes past him, and Ross watches him leave. "Have a good night, Ross," he calls over his shoulder.

"You too..." Ross sighs. He frowns down at his uncomfortably wet clothes and the mess in the pool. Looks like he's staying later than he normally would, tonight...

 

And this leads to drinking coffee and eating breakfast granola by the poolside. Talking. Laughing. Also kissing.

And late night locker room shower sex, with the whole room steamed up from the heat of the spray, and Trott looking at Ross over his shoulder. Ross chucking his clothes and joining him under the water. Pinning Trott up against the wall, hefting his legs up, kissing.

And then sectionals comes up, and Ross drives Trott to his hotel and college team practices. Cheers Trott on from the stands at the swim meet. Celebratory Steak & Shake and kissing. Hotel sex. Honestly, Trott would probably be exhausted after all that, but that just gives Ross the opportunity to service ^^.

  


**Threeplusfire:** I loooooooove this. Yes please. Ross letting Trott in early or letting him stay late. Ross shyly holding Trott's hand a beat longer than necessary when he gives him a mug of coffee, because Ross made extra just in hopes of this. The faint flush of pink in Ross' cheeks that gets deeper when Trott stretches his arms over his head.

Ross head over heels in love. Does everything he can to make Trott's life easier. Ross contentedly rubbing Trott's shoulders and back in the evening, when he's locked up the gym.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Ross going back to Trott's, because Trott's parent will never check in. All the shoulder and back rubs, and rubbing the back of his legs. Sleeping in the same bed. Not enough room on a twin-sized mattress, but Trott sort of likes how close Ross is. Trott waking before Ross does the next morning, watching him sleep for a little longer, until the sun starts to creep up over the window ledge.

Ross convincing Trott to take a free day once in awhile. They go to the beach, or stay in on a rainy day watching movies while it thunderstorms. Laying on the couch in Ross' parents house, curled under a blanket with the dogs, munching popcorn. Ross idly running his hand through Trott's hair, watching him more than the movie playing on the tv that he's seen a thousand times. Watching the film reflect in Trott's brown irises.

Talking about what happens when the summer ends. Ross more than willing to commute to visit Trott, since their colleges are far apart. Getting up at weird hours to Skype with him, sending texts between classes, watching livestreamed swim meets across the country.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross just adores him, utterly. He's fallen in love so hard. Rubbing Trott's legs and kissing his ankles, playfully biting his toes to make Trott laugh and twitch. The two of them taking turns being the big spoon in Trott's tiny bed. The gym closed over the weekend of the 4th, and Ross sits on a picnic blanket beside Trott watching fireworks.

Switching his classes to be afternoon ones, so he can skype with Trott in the mornings after his swim practices. Ross texting Trott pictures of weird things he sees during the day. Ross taking long weekends to drive over to see Trott, crashing in his dorm room. Another tiny bed. Taking Trott out for frozen yogurt, sitting on the edge of a fountain. Ross always concerned about Trott's creature comforts. Never so happy as he is when he's doing something service oriented for Trott, Trott's hand stroking the back of his head.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Ross never shaking his feeling of creeping every time he watches Trott. But Trott says he doesn't mind, that he's used to thousands of eyes watching what he does and judging it. Knowing Ross watching is different. A comfort. Support. Someone who he knows sees him for all that he is, not just some fast swimmer.

Ross wearing a headset while he's eating his breakfast, a bowl of cereal, muting his mic for Trott's benefit while he listens to him talk about the morning's practice and what he did the previous evening. Ross, up in the late hours watching the livestream of Trott, timezones away. Shouting cheerfully when Trott break records and comes in first, and then immediately covering his mouth, because he's too loud and it's three am here. Falling asleep with his phone on, waking up and being half awake but smiling when Trott calls him to tell him the good news. "I saw, congrats, Trott, you did so well..." listens to Trott babble, giddy and excited, and celebrating with his teammates. Making plans for Ross to meet up with him at one of their tournaments over fall break, closer to Ross' college than Trott's. Ross booking a hotel room rather than crowding into a dorm bed with Trott, days before a swim meet. Watching out the window as the bus with Trott's college swim team pulls up to the hotel entrance.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross invests in extra battery packs and cables to make sure his phone doesn't run out of charge. They totally do that falling asleep on the phone thing with each other. He takes some informal evening class about massage, to learn how to do it properly.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Spending Trott's leisure time in Ross' hotel room, because all they want to do is be with each other, anyway. They'll have more time for city-exploring things after the tournament's finished, and before Trott heads back to school. Ross spends a lengthy amount of time giving Trott a really good massage, chuckling a little at how boneless Trott is in the sheets.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Cheerfully massaging Trott into a limp puddle of a man, enjoying every grunt and happy sigh. Trott mumbling about how he won't be able to swim now, he's too relaxed. Ross kissing down Trott's spine, down the backs of his legs. Joking he could get a straw for Trott's water so he doesn't have to get up again.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** "The fastest swimmer in the state, reduced into a cooked-spaghetti-man. Who knew his weakness was a great massage," Ross teases. He settles down beside Trott and traces nonsensical patterns across his back. Trott turns his head towards him so they can kiss. Feet tangled together at the end of the bed.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** "You've ruined your chance of getting laid," Trott says against Ross' mouth. "Gone completely floppy. Probably won't even be able to get it up for you." Ross laughs and rolls Trott on his back.

"Just keep laying there," Ross says. Kisses his way down Trott to blow him. Trott bestirring himself enough to put his hand on Ross' head.

 **Ghostofgatsby:** "I'm more than happy to do all the work." Ross taking his time like he'd done before with the massage, slow and drawn out and just shy of too much sensation for Trott to handle. Trott tightens his grip on Ross' hair and his hand in the sheets, closing his eyes and basking in how effortless and good it feels.

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott's always sort of surprised that Ross cares enough to exert the effort, to pay attention, that he never keeps a tally and demands payment for his favors. Trott dozing off in Ross' arms afterwards.

Trott showing off their new team swimsuits on skype one night, and Ross making a comment about how they're indecent Trott.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Ross covering his mouth to stifle his laughter, because "They're so _skimpy_ , Trott! That hardly covers- you're going to swim so fast your swimsuit's going to slide right off! Hahah."

"What, are you saying I've got nothing to keep it there?" Trott calls from across the room, turning in the mirror with his hand on his hips.

"You don't have any _hair_ , no." Ross smiles. "You look good, but I can't believe those are part of the uniform. I don't know why...surely a little more fabric isn't going to slow you down?"

"We have to be the most sexually appealing swim team in the collegiate bracket, Ross. It's the only way to beat our competition out of the pool."

"I think you'd win a beauty competition, too, but I have to admit that I'm biased."

Trott grins.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross is very fascinated by Trott's lack of hair and his fastidious removal of it. Trott's like a marble statue, but soft and warm.

Maybe Ross is studying architecture or civil engineering. Daydreaming in his classes about the holiday break, getting to spend time with Trott. Working some part time job on the weekend and saving his money.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Engineering, perhaps. More free time than an architecture major. Trying to balance his schedule and falling asleep a lot over the phone the closer it gets to finals. Trott tells him they can cut back on the Skypeing or calling, but Ross declines to do so, no matter how busy he gets.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross half asleep, mumbling about some engineering problem in terms so arcane and unfamiliar all Trott can do is make encouraging noises. He worries about Ross shorting his classes, but Ross seems to be stolidly working along. Ross texts him from the library, when he's stuck in his study group. Moans about the essay on Frankenstein he has to write for his english class.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Complaining about the required English course, why does he have to take this, he's an Engineering major. He needs the math and computers and science, not _English_ or _Art History_. ranting over text. Ross can imagine Trott's amused chuckle on the other side of the phone, wishing he could call him but knowing he has work to get done. He gets an emoji smiley-face as a response, and a text that reads, "Did you have dinner yet?" Sending bathroom mirror-selfies back and forth that evening when they're getting ready for bed, of Ross trimming down his patchy growth of facial hair; of Trott just out of the shower, frowning at the muscle soreness in his legs from working out.

Maybe watching or helping Trott shave everything down the day before the swim meet. Kneeling beside the tub in the hotel bathroom, swirling his fingers through the bathwater. Massages good smelling lotion into Trott's legs when he's done, sliding his hands up and down the silky skin. "You know, Trott, you'd look great in stockings." Ross smirks.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott reminds Ross to eat a vegetable, you can't live on potato chips, potato chips are not a vegetable. Ross texting back that brown rice is terrible and why would you eat that. Pictures of meals and snacks going back and forth, comparisons of their dining hall options. Ross taking surreptitious pictures of squirrels on campus stealing people's food outside the engineering building cafeteria.

Ross' fascination with his bare skin seems weird at first to Trott, because he's not used to someone paying such close attention who isn't a coach. Ross cheerfully putting lotion on Trott's skin, because the chlorine makes him dry and itchy if he doesn't keep up with a good moisturizer. After Ross' comment about stockings, Trott thinks about it a lot. The next week sending Ross a picture of himself in his room, his knee high athletic socks and tiny running shorts. Ross texting back "That's not what I meant! You look like a 70s porn star" and Trott laughing so hard he almost inhales his coffee.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott doesn't indulge in things, not the kind of indulgent things that Ross obliges to do. Fancy dinners, massages, tickets to see some musician or show. Ross always persuades Trott to stop and enjoy things awhile, appreciate the smaller things he'd normally bustle past while chasing after dreams. The small moments in a busy life.

 _Comparing dining hall food._ Hahah, I love it. "Trott, how can you have salad for dinner, just _salad?_ You need some meat on your bones." "I don't have time to cook steak in my dorm room kitchen, Ross." "I didn't want the first time I cooked a steak to be when you came over, and accidentally _burn the thing_." "That was one time! I told you I'm a terrible cook." "And I'm never letting you forget it :P."

"Should I buy a jockstrap instead to complete the wrestling porn aesthetic?" Trott responds, grinning.

Ross nearly trips over his feet laughing to himself as he replies, speed walking across campus. "That was not an image I needed on my way to class!"

"So I shouldn't send you more photos, then?" Teasing.

"There are more photos? Yeah, send them! Wait, no- later. I kinda don't want to sit uncomfortably through my lecture. As appealing as that sounds."

Trott giggles into his coffee. The barista cleaning the cafe tables pays him no mind. "If that's not what you meant, you might have to send me some Amazon links."

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross likes to see Trott smile, that unguarded smile of actual enjoyment. He wants it all the time. Trott probably lives this fairly ascetic athlete life because he's busy and because doesn't have the time/money for many things. So Ross makes it his mission to fill Trott's life with more small moments of happiness.

Ross sending pictures of some guy in the dining hall who is eating waffles covered in soft serve. Ross' "look I'm having a vegetable!" snaps and questions about whether it is healthy to eat frosted flakes or cocoa krispies.

"You should take a nutrition class, before you turn into a processed food yourself." Trott rolling his eyes when Ross makes fun of his salads and quinoa.

Ross eating an entire candy bowl full of fun size candy bars while they watch movies for halloween, because neither of them really wanted to go to that party anyway.

Trott sends him one more picture anyway before class, legs crossed and propped up on the wall while Trott lays in bed. Ross having to look up at the ceiling for a moment to regain his composure.

"Definitely not opening any more of your texts during class jfc Trott"

Trott totally gets a package in the mail with the most ridiculous lace topped stockings and a garter belt. Has to close to it and sit there red faced in his bedroom for a moment, wondering if he is actually going to do this.

Ross is already thinking about the winter break and wondering if he can persuade Trott to come stay with him for at least part of it.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott eats a lot of healthy food. Ross is jealous of his college's decent-looking fresh produce. "I'd eat better if there were options." "You have options. Also a car, with which to get groceries." "Trott, let me have my terrible college diet, c'mon."

_#isthisavegetable_

Ross and Trott making fun of bad horror films, but not each other when they flinch at unexpected jump scares.

Trott trying to psyche himself up to put the stockings on, because it's not a big deal it's just...different. But he's more nervous about the stockings then he is before a swim match. Probably because he's doing this for Ross, and he doesn't know what to expect.

Taking a deep breath and trying them on. Slowly sliding them up his legs, rubbing his hands along the fabric and thinking it's not too bad. Turning this way and that in the mirror, watching his reflection. Trott chuckles to himself. He can picture Ross' face already. He'd thought about only taking pictures, or waiting until they could meet in person. But he wants to see Ross' reaction, and he doesn't know how long he can wait.

Ross wanting to cuddle up by the fireplace with Trott, drink hot chocolate, watch it snow, bake a stupid amount of cookies. It seems silly, but even if Trott wouldn't want to do those things, Ross would still want him to come stay during part of break. It's a struggle to fit time into their schedules to meet in person, and Ross wants to use their time off the best he can.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** "No, peanut butter is not a vegetable."

"No, popcorn is not a vegetable."

"No, green gummi bears are not vegetables."

The texts always make Trott snort.

"You should really check out a book from the library, I'm concerned about your lack of vegetable knowledge."

Trott on a sports scholarship, in a dorm building full of athletes. They have a pretty good meal plan. It's a good school.

Ross has Serious Business Opinions on what makes a good movie. Trott finds it kind of funny.

The advantage of standing up during their skype call to show off the stockings is that he can look at Ross' face. Trott in an old tshirt from some swim meet, and a pair of shorts that he shimmies out of to show off the stockings and the tiny black underwear he's got. He still has his headset on, so he can hear Ross' intake of breath like it happens in his ear, and it brings up goosebumps on his arms.

"... fuck me." Ross looks stunned.

"While I'm wearing the stockings?" Trott teases, twisting a little.

"Yes," Ross says enthusiastically. "Oh god yes, Trott."

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott does a lot of networking at swim meets. Coaches and sponsors are already giving him offers, but he wants to finish his degree before he goes any further up the brackets. It's a delicate balance, juggling all these things. Sometimes he wonders if he shouldn't have gone to college, should have substituted a degree with more training. But he doesn't feel ready yet. He's not at Olympic standards, even though he gets closer every day.

"But what makes this such a good movie? I don't get it." Ross talks animatedly about what he likes about it. Trott listens patiently, not understanding but amused at how excited Ross gets.

"You're really into this, huh." Trott grins, pleased.

"Absolutely." Ross licks his lips. "Though, to be honest, you could wear anything and I'd still find you attractive."

"Even my 70s pornstar getup?"

Ross rolls his eyes. "I prefer this look more, but if that's what makes you happy, Trott- sure."

Trott moves a little closer to the camera, watching the movement of Ross' Adams apple as he swallows. "Fucking hell, Trott..." Ross sighs.

Trott chuckles.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Anything that gives Ross the opportunity to be worshipful and appreciative of Trott is A+ in his book. Ross daydreaming in the library about Trott sitting in his lap, how much nicer it would be to hold Trott instead of writing his paper.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** "Why can't my professor assign lazy makeouts instead of long-ass essays?" he texts Trott. Sometimes he wishes they went to the same college, so Trott _could_ sit in his lap while he did his work. But Ross knows he'd probably be too distracted, if that was the case.

Fast forward a year, Trott's choosing a personal trainer, and sponsors. He moves to Colorado when college is over, to be closer to one of the three Olympics Training Centers in the US, and Ross goes with him.

The phys ed degree Trott has under his belt actually becomes useful when he starts working alongside his coach at a local gym. Sponsors don't pay for everything. He feels better about bringing home a second paycheck, too, that way Ross isn't the only one.

So much of Trott's time becomes micromanaged. Eat, sleep, train. Free time is minimal until his coach starts re-configuring things. "You're going to burn yourself out if you push too hard. Not just physically, but mentally, too."

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross clips all the articles about Trott, makes him a little scrapbook of his wins and progress, gives it to him as a graduation present. It's an easy choice, to follow Trott. It's not like he has plans to go back home. Looks at internships in places that Trott is considering. Finding a job won't be too bad. He's reasonably employable.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Trott frowning, the little furrow between his brows.

"It isn't a hard choice for me." Ross shrugs. "I knew I'd go somewhere other than here, when I finished. And I want to go where you are."

Ross is excited about the idea of getting to live with Trott full time. Not getting stolen time every other weekend. Being able to eat dinner with Trott, or waking up when his early morning alarm goes off. It's hard sometimes, not to resent the pool and it's hold over Trott's life. He finds himself wanting more time with Trott. Being able to eat at normal hours, or getting to wake up on a lazy weekend with Trott asleep next to him. But mostly Ross is sanguine about it. He knows Trott has a dream, a big dream, and Ross is super supportive.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** The scrapbook is full of team photos, and dynamic shots of Trott cheering, and diving into the pool. Trott draped in medals, looking proud but tired. In the back, there are pictures of the two of them the summer they met, with the hometown gym in the background.

They decorate their apartment together, and Ross finds time to take Trott out for lunch every so often. Picks him up from the gym, smiling at Trott as he gets in the car with wet hair, smelling like chlorine and sweat. They go to Trott's favorite healthy brunch place in the city. Light fruit crepes and organic foodstuffs. Smoothies. Sitting outside under umbrella-covered tables.

 

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott gets a nasty cold and Ross makes him stay home for three days. Bundles Trott onto their couch, wrapped in blankets with the TV remote and a thermos of tea.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott feels awful while he's sick, and sleeps most of the time. Ross stays home one of the days to make sure he keeps hydrated and doesn't get any worse. They watch a lot of movies. Trott tells Ross he's going to get himself sick, too, and Ross just shrugs.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross makes sure they have a place for all Trott's medals and trophies, in the little dining nook. Trott torn between wanting to show them off and feeling awkward about them being out there for anyone to see if they come over. Buying a sofa. They look at a lot of them, trying to find one just long enough for Ross to stretch out full length. He insists this is very important criteria.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** "We can put them wherever you want, Trott. I'm proud of you no matter what. The medals are just one thing that shows how far you've come. It's a big accomplishment." When Trott comes home late he finds Ross napping on the couch, and dinner warm in the oven.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** One of Ross' coworkers has a daughter, and Ross buys so many girl scout cookies for Trott. Fills up half the freezer. Trott with his bedtime two cookie snack.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Ross, learning healthier recipes to better adapt to Trott's diet regimen.

Soooo many boxes of cookies. Trott comes home to find him trying to Tetris-fit them all in their freezer. Ross just grins.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** "How many boxes did you buy?" Trott staring.

"As many as she had of your favorite, and then a couple others." Ross has already opened a box of the peanut butter sandwich cookies. "I know you love them, you can't deny it."

Trott shaking his head in amusement. Giving Ross a quick kiss before going to take a proper shower.

Ross buying cookbooks. Surprising Trott with new things. Trott buys them a rice cooker after the tenth time Ross makes soggy mess of cooking rice on the stove. But Ross gets pretty good at making chicken eleven billion ways, and cooking vegetables he's never thought about.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Ross makes homemade granola, and packs Trott's lunch with plenty of healthy snacks, too.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** "Oatmeal cookies are healthy, right? It's oats!"

Trott just looking at Ross, who is cheerfully making a sheet of cookies.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott gets a subscription to a health magazine, or one of those nutritious snack box things. In the hopes that he'll branch out from cookies. Even though the cookies are healthier than most, and delicious.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott trying to convince Ross that dried and roasted chickpeas are a good snack. Ross refuses to be swayed by the idea of kale chips. He'll make them if Trott wants them, but he's not eating those.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** "If the chip isn't made of potatoes, Trott, I'm not eating it."

Trott makes sweet potato chips, then. Ross is torn, but he can't eat just one.

Zoey and Trott trade healthy recipes. Fiona pushes Trott in the gym all the time. She used to do curling and swimming, and she's pretty buff. Trott complains to Zoey when Fiona works him really hard in cross training.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Every time Trott complains, Fiona just looks at him.

"Well we could send you to dance lessons and put you on the synchronized swim team."

Trott grumbles. Fiona laughs and schedules a yoga class for him.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott would be the grumpiest synchronized swimmer. Mostly because he'd be concentrating so hard on not accidentally kicking somebody in the face or splashing his arms about too much.

Ross tries to take off time to go with Trott to his swim meets. Being able to cheer in person in the stands instead of watching a livestream.

One of the meets is a town over, and Ross drives them home in the late evening. Trott falls asleep in the car, curled up against the window in his matching athletic wear.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Driving late at night on the highway, looking at Trott sideways in the sliding road light. Music on low. Trott in his blue tracksuit, shoes kicked off, legs curled up in his seat. Ross doesn't want to wake him up by the time they get home. Wonders if he can carry Trott upstairs. If there's any real complaint he has about work, it is that it seems more dull than he hoped and he can't just take off for every single meet. Starts wondering if he'll be able to go to the big international competitions with Trott, looking up the location of the next Olympics.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Ross opens the front door first, propping it open with one of their coffee table books. By the time he gets back Trott's sleepily rubbing his eyes. "Shh, dangit, Trott, go back to sleep. I was gonna carry you." Trott snorts and holds his arms out. Ross picks him up and carries him, shutting the car door with his foot. Trott's heavier than he seems, but Ross isn't bothered. It's a short walk inside, anyway.

Ross, sneakily watching meets on his phone or on the computer at work, when he can't make it to Trott's swim meets. Subscribing to live feeds, listening to online radio broadcasts of the event. Trying to do whatever he can to be there in spirit.

Ross will fight for time off when the Olympic trials rolls around, and the Olympics themselves. He has to be there, wants to be there more than anything, to cheer Trott on. He knows, realistically, it might be hard to get time off, but it could be a once in a lifetime experience. He _has_ to go. And he wants Trott to look into the stands, look at the crowd, and know, just know he's got somebody out there cheering for him. The closest person he's got, who will cheer for him no matter what he places, and at the end of the day will be just as proud of him, if not more.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross carrying Trott into the apartment, nudging the book with his foot to shut the door. Trott with his arms around Ross' neck.

"Should have done this when we moved in."

Trott laughs, exhausted. Ross undressing him, tossing all their clothes on the floor. Trott stretching, using Ross as a pillow. Listening as he falls back asleep to Ross promises to make french toast. Lazy morning sex to celebrate.

Ross socks away money for their Olympic fund. Skips the work happy hours. Starts taking his lunch to work. Any odd little thing he can do. Buys a ridiculous lunch box. Thinking about how he's starting to want to get married but he doesn't want to ask. Not while this is the only thing Trott can think about for the future. Going on Saturday afternoons to watch Trott swim.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Mmm, french toast. They eat it in bed, despite Trott's dislike of crumbs in the sheets. The few days after swim meets, Trott takes time off. If they're in another city, he and Ross go sightseeing.

Ross wonders what will come after the Olympics. It's Trott's biggest goal. He doesn't know what else he'll want. What might change afterwards. Some Olympic swimmers compete for as few as four years, and some up to twelve, fourteen, all devoted to pursuing medals and new records. He hasn't asked Trott what his goals are for after the Olympics, if he's going to compete as long as possible or end up coaching or training others. And Ross doesn't mind what Trott ends up choosing to do. For him, he only wants to be by Trott's side, and support him. He really thinks he'd marry him, but he wants to be absolutely sure Trott would want it as much as he would.

Ross watches Trott banter with his coach before doing another time trial. He knows Trott's been working hard on shaving a few seconds off his time. Ross can't help but smile, watching Trott's arms arc through the water. His movement is continuous and fluid, and the water shows no resistance, from how Ross sees it.

Trott reaches the other side and slaps his hand to the wall, springing up from the water and staring at his coach expectantly. His coach slowly reads out the time, breaking into a smile at the end, and Trott fistpumps the air, cheering and falling back in the pool excitedly. His coach laughs and complains about being splashed.

Ross claps quietly enough to not be overheard from the sound of Trott's laughter.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross' favorite time was a trip to California for a competition, and the day they spent at the beach afterwards. Trott skeptical about ocean swimming, Ross threatening to bury him in the sand if he didn't get up and come splash with Ross in the waves. Eating french fries and fish tacos.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Ross carrying Trott into the ocean.

(yelling, "Be free, merman!" *splash*)

 

 **Threeplusfire:** "Ross!" Trott getting a mouthful of salt water when Ross heaves him into the ocean. Pulling Ross' feet out from under him.

Ross wonders sometimes if Trott would be happier if he was one of the athletes living in the training center dorms instead of just going there every day. Sometimes he has to remind Trott there are things outside of the pool. Ross is used to Trott falling asleep while they watch movies. He doesn't mind. He just runs his fingers through Trott's hair while he sleeps on Ross and the movie finishes.

Trott and his ceaseless quest for economy of motion, for every tenth of a second. His coaches encouraging him to cross train some, to build his stamina and strength even more. Poor Trott dreadfully sore after his first week, moaning about how evil his coaches are. Ross making sympathetic noises, running a hot bath and bringing Trott a drink with a straw. Sitting on the floor, holding Trott's hand while he soaks.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** When Trott was considering the dorms, Ross may have suggested more cons then pros. Like the cost. And no cuddles from Ross. And a dorm environment like college. Ross thinks maybe after the Olympics, and if they get married, they can get a house together and put in a pool. It'd cost a lot, but then Trott could train from home. He jokes to Trott that they ought to move into an aquarium instead of a house.

The drink has a tiny parasol and a wedge of lemon, because Ross wanted to be fancy. Ross leans his head against the side of the tub, brushing his thumb back and forth over Trott's knuckles.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** "Why are you so good to me?" Trott finally asks. His toes are pruning up but he doesn't care.

"Because I love you."

Ross drying Trott off with one of the big fluffy towels. They have so many towels. Sometimes Ross thinks his life is never ending laundry baskets. But he doesn't mind so much if it means little moments like this when he can wrap Trott in his robe and settle him down on the couch for a late dinner and some unnecessary/highly therapeutic cuddling.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** "I love you too, but...I'm not _this_ good to you. You always do things for me, Ross."

"Because that's me showing I care. Just because you don't do the same things for me doesn't mean you don't." Ross smiles, ruffling Trott's hair with a towel.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott really did not want to live in another dorm and share so much of his space. Ross sneakily decorates the bedroom like it is a fish tank. Buys some fancy prints of fish and water and frames them. Gets a plant or two. Buys Trott a giant stuffed catfish in some weird airport. Lots of blue sheets and pillows and blankets for the bed.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** ( [ weird stuffed animals ](https://www.amazon.com/Channel-Catfish-Plush-Stuffed-Animal/dp/B002L7SK9I) are the best.)

Ross secretly trying to get Trott to stay in bed longer, by mistakenly thinking it's a pool. Trott is usually too tired to notice. One holiday weekend off, they're in the middle of a great makeout and cuddle session, when Trott looks around and just sighs.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** "What?" Ross looks up at Trott, who is staring around their room.

"You did this on purpose."

"Did what?"

Trott holds up the edge of the blanket, which is printed with waves and ripples.

"You love that blanket!"

"And that." Trott points at the plush fish on the nightstand. "And that. And the pictures. Ross Hornby, you weird little sneak." Ross starts to laugh, and Trott mock smothers him with a pillow.

Does Trott even know what he wants? Beyond making it to the Olympics?

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** I doubt it. It's going to hit hard, when it does come. Staring up at the cheering crowd and flashing cameras in wonder, the weight of a medal around his neck. What comes next? It's easy to keep doing what he has been- continue training, competing, preparing for the next one. After the Olympics, Zoey and Fiona suggest he take some time off, see family, enjoy the moment. Celebrate. More sponsors and journalists want to speak with him, but they can wait a little. Trott has to sit down and really think about what he wants. He's lost in thought on the entire plane ride back to the U.S. Ross is with him, sitting beside him, and holding his hand. Trott suddenly feels overwhelmed, that every moment, every choice he made led up to Olympics, and now...

His grip tightens in Ross' hand. "Ross?" he says quietly, "Thank you. For being with me."

Ross chuckles and squeezes his hand back. "Of course. You're very welcome, Trott. I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

Trott turns from the window, meeting Ross' tired eyes and seeing him smile. They kiss, and Trott thinks, maybe, if Ross asked to marry him, he'd say yes. But that's something they haven't really talked about. Trott doesn't want to bring it up right now, not just yet- that can wait until another night. When they're home. When he can hang up his Olympic medal in the dining room and crawl into bed as just Trott, not Olympic-medalist-swimmer-Trott.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross thinks he's going to burst with how proud he is of Trott. Seeing him compete, seeing him win, hearing the cheering and the roar of the stadium. Ross is on his feet, yelling too. It's so hard to let him go that night, because Trott's staying in the athlete's village and Ross is in a hotel room across town. Hard later, too, because the press is suddenly calling and wanting to schedule interviews and things and Ross wonders how anyone even got his number. It's such a long flight home, and Ross hates flying so much, but he can hold Trott's hand.

That moment of quiet when they are finally, finally home and inside their apartment that's still. Trott carefully hanging up his medal and looking at for a moment. Ross sticking his head in the fridge and realizing there's almost no food, he's going to have to go to the grocery store in the morning. But for now, he just wants to wrap his arms around Trott.

"Couch? Or bed?"

"Bed," Trott says. It's been entirely too long since he could stretch out and wrap himself around Ross. After the mediocre mattress of the athlete's accommodations he's so glad for their bed Ross insisted on buying.

"God I love you so much," Trott sighs. Ross kisses him.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Ross never wants to let Trott go, just wants to keep him by his side as long as he can. He's happy watching Trott chase after his dreams and making them real, but now he can see the press starting to focus in on him. He doesn't know what Trott thinks of all of that- the press starting to dig into his personal life. Nothing about their relationship has come up, but they haven't been very public in the Olympic circuit, either. Ross wanted to kiss Trott more than anything after he saw him win, to rush down the stadium and scoop him into his arms like a cheesy romance movie. They didn't have their moment until much later that night, after it felt like everyone had congratulated Trott but Ross. They had hugged in the back corner of the friends-and-family lounge in the village, and Ross had buried his face in Trott's hair, momentarily speechless. "I'm so happy for you, Trott," he ended up whispering. And Trott had kissed him, and Ross felt that even if they were miles away from where they lived, he was still in some sense home.

Trott's so tired, but he couldn't get any sleep on the plane. It feels good just to lie in bed with Ross and not have to do anything. He wishes he had more energy, but he doesn't, so they'll have to settle with lazy kisses and cuddles tonight.

Trott chuckles at a thought, and breaks the kiss. "You're pretty lucky, Ross, to have an Olympic medalist in your bed," he teases. A lot of the interviews asked him that question. If he felt lucky, how he felt, what it was like. Trott threw back the customary amazement and thanks and talk of hard work and dedication. But he doesn't know what he's supposed to feel other than that. He thinks he should feel proud- and he is- but right now he feels shell-shocked.

Ross kisses him again. "I feel lucky just to be with you, Trott. You're amazing, you know that? Not just because of what you've accomplished, but who you are." Trott smiles. "But, you know. Being able to say I'm dating an Olympic medalist does sound pretty great, too."

Ross makes a big breakfast the next morning. Trott sits in the living room while Ross cooks, watching tv but not really seeing it. It should just be another day, but there's still news about his win circulating. Out of the corner of his eye he can see the dining room, and he knows the medal is there. He's half torn between going to look at it to make sure it's real, and hiding it away in a drawer. He's not ashamed, but it's a lot to deal with. He had to turn off his phone last night because he was still getting so many calls about interviews.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** It becomes a joke between them.

"It's amazing, folding towels for an Olympic medalist."

"Sure is amazing, picking up an Olympic medalist's dishes."

"You should be grateful, an Olympic medalist turned on the dishwasher for you this morning."

"Did you know an Olympic medalist picked up groceries today?"

It always makes Ross laugh, and he stops whatever he is doing to kiss Trott.

Trott cracks the joke one night before bed, and Ross pushes him down.

"Well, seems like I should show my appreciation for that Olympic medalist." Ross kissing his way along Trott's ribs, going down on him with enthusiasm. Trott gasping, one hand gripping the sheets.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** "If blow jobs were an Olympic sport, you'd get a gold medal," Trott says breathlessly when he's finished.

Ross smiles smugly.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** "Maybe we should petition the Olympic committee to include them in the next games." Ross flops on the bed beside Trott. "Then you could say you helped me train." Ross knows Trott will probably get stir crazy soon, but he's liking the couple weeks off that Zoey and Fiona insisted on. It's nice to come home and Trott's there. Or waking up on Sunday mornings, and Trott nuzzling into him half awake. Being able to stay up late, watching movies.

Eventually Trott does a couple interviews, with places that seem reputable and respectable. Sports Illustrated, one of the big papers. He reluctantly agrees to do an appearance on one of the morning shows, mostly because Ross points out they could go to California again and have a little vacation. They spend a couple days wandering the city, Ross constantly stopping places for snacks.

There's someone from their hometown paper, who asks about the gym he trained in during those summers. Trott thinks this would be the perfect time to mention Ross, but he doesn't. He doesn't know how or what to say. It's weird to hear himself referred to as an olympian. Trott wonders if it should feel different. It's a bit like that moment of surfacing, when the sound is still muffled by water.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** The morning show journalists ask what he has planned next, and Trott garbles together something between vacation and thinking about the next Olympics if he's lucky. But as he sits patiently in front of cameras, he's thinking of Ross, too. When he thinks about his future, he knows Ross'll be in it.

Maybe one of their high school reunions comes around, or Trott and Ross go back home to visit Ross' family. Maybe one of Ross' cousins are getting married. Meeting up with friends from their college days while they're in town. So many people they know are married. Honestly, the two of them are practically married, already, they just...aren't.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott sitting in the little church, looking sideways at Ross who is beaming at his cousin walking down the isle. Ross eating cake and drinking lemonade afterwards, so cheerful. Wondering if he has the nerve to ask Ross to do this with him. Trott wonders sometimes if it is fair, Ross giving up things to support Trott.

Ross has never thought he's really had to give up much. Time maybe. He's not fussed about living in Colorado, or using all his vacation time to get to meets with Trott. It feels worth it to him. When they go back to the hotel after the wedding, Ross slow dances with Trott in their room, kissing him.

Ross and Trott both privately thinking about the marriage question. It's been almost three years now. The carefully casual questions tossed out during dinner or after a movie or in the car.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott thinking if he can make it to the Olympics, surely he can ask Ross to marry him. He knows Ross would say yes, is very certain about that now.

After Ross' cousin's wedding, they hide their questions in critiques.

"I was thinking about your cousin's wedding. Would you want something so large, or a ceremony smaller than that?"

"If we got married, I would have rather had steak for the dinner."

"The cake was good, but I didn't like the frosting."

"The ring was too gaudy for my taste. I think I'd want something simpler."

When Trott goes back to training, Ross drops him off at the gym. They both wind up talking to Zoey and Fiona in different locations, and each get pestered about not getting married yet. "Figured you would have proposed by now."

Zoey and Fiona have been married since they were out of high school. Ross and Trott have had them over for dinner a few times. Ross and Zoey cooking, giving each other a hard time over recipes. Zoey helping Ross make his cookie recipes healthier.

I kind of like the idea of them both buying rings, but Trott proposes first, maybe a few months later. Plans a weekend getaway up in the mountains, under the guise of Fiona suggesting he go hiking.

(maybe somewhere like this: [ https://www.instagram.com/p/89JCtEigsW/?taken-by=dustycrowphoto ](https://www.instagram.com/p/89JCtEigsW/?taken-by=dustycrowphoto) )

While they're up there, Ross is staring out into the distance. Trott gets down on one knee all traditional. He takes Ross' hand, and Ross turns around and looks down.

For a moment neither of them can speak.

Ross, surprised, stammering. "Trott... _Trott_ , I was going to-"

"Ross, you're ruining the moment, just let me talk before I throw up out of anxiety!" Trott laughs nervously. His hands are shaking and he nearly drops the ring. "Will you marry me?" he asks, keeping it simple.

Ross beams. "Of course I will. Of course I will, Trott. Yes."

Trott stands up and kisses him. Ross holds him tightly, and they only break from their embrace for Trott to slip the ring onto Ross' finger.

"You do so much for me, Ross, and I don't know how to thank you," Trott says, trying not to get too choked up, "I don't know if I can be the perfect other half for you, but-"

Ross strokes his cheek. "You're everything I want, Trott. And if I have you, I have everything." They kiss again, and Ross laughs. "I was going to ask _you_ , you sneaky twat. I just wanted to find the perfect moment..." He sighs, leaning their foreheads together and smiling, arms around each other. Looking down at the ring on his finger.

"Do you like it?" Trott asks.

"I do." Ross looks up at him and smiles. "I have one question, though, Trott. If you want me to marry you. It's a very important question."

Trott raises an eyebrow as Ross steps away and gets down on one knee, beaming.

"At least this saves us from buying wedding rings," he mumbles, rolling his eyes and feeling overwhelmed in a happy way as Ross takes a little box out of his pocket.

Ross smiles and holds up the box, cracking the lid open to show the ring.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott swallows hard, looking at the smile on Ross' face.

"Every day I wake up glad you're in my life Trott. That I get to fall asleep next to you at night. That I get to see you live your dreams. I just...fuck Trott, I love you so much and I want to marry you and I don't remember my speech."

Trott chokes and laughs, leaning over to kiss Ross.

"Of course I'll marry you, Ross Hornby."

Ross picks him up and spins them around.

In their little cabin later that day, lounging around together, studying how their rings look on their hands. Ross looks completely blissful. Trott picks up his phone, and takes a picture of them cuddled up on the porch swing.

"Hold your hand up," Trott says. Ross links their fingers, hands lifted into the frame as Trott angles his phone to get a good picture of them.

"That's a good one." Ross leans his head against Trott.

Trott fidgets with his phone, thinking. That it will be noticed. That people will have questions and people will say things. But the alternative, not saying anything, feels too much like shame or hiding.

"I'm going to post it on my instagram," Trott says, looking at Ross. "Unless you don't want me to."

"Do you want to?" Ross asks, his fingers brushing Trott's hair off his forehead.

"I do. I want to be happy in public. I don't want to have to lie."

Ross nods.

"It's going to be hard, some places."

"I know."

Ross kisses him, long and slow.

The picture goes up on Trott's instagram, with the caption "We both said yes!"

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Ross and Trott call their respective closest family and friends to tell them the good news. Trott's instagram blows up with congratulations and excitement, fans pleasantly surprised and thanking him for being out and representing. There are some shocked comments and "you're not single???" "who is he?" "awwww, so cute!", and some rude trolls as per usual. but the response is mostly positive. Trott posts another picture, of the sunset over the mountains, with the caption "Thank you."

After they finish making their phone calls, they turn their phones off, and just enjoy each other's presence. Kissing and making something simple for dinner.

Trott makes Ross leave the dishes in the sink when they're done. "We should celebrate," he says, kissing him, "and besides, your ring isn't waterproof."

"Yours is." Ross grins.

Trott laughs and kisses him again.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross spent a long, long time researching to figure out what the best kind of ring for Trott would be. He knows Trott's going to have to take it off in the pool for competitions. But he wants something Trott could wear as much as he wanted, that he wouldn't have to worry about in the pool.

"Ross." Trott's standing there in the bathroom.

"Hmmm?"

"Why does our cabin in the middle of nowhere have a whirlpool bathtub?"

"Because I know and love you, Trott."

The two of them drinking wine, sitting on the porch and looking at the stars. It reminds Ross of breaks during college, when they could steal a couple days together. But somehow this is even better. Maybe because Trott's sitting in his lap, fingers playing with Ross' hair. It's cooling off at night, and Trott's warm. Ross wants to take him inside and peel off his clothes. But he also just wants to sit there, savoring this moment. Running his hand up and down Trott's back. It's so quiet. Only the little light spilling out the window. So many stars. Ross has never been so happy. This feels like a dream.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** I imagine Trott and Ross talk a lot, in the next few months, about the future and what they want. Planning for a wedding, but also planning for other things. If they want to move house. What other competitions are in Trott's schedule, if he's reaching for the next Olympics.

There's a lot of pressure on Trott to keep winning, to beat his old records, and win more gold medals in the next Olympics. It makes Trott uncertain on what will be said of him- and how he'll feel about himself- if he doesn't meet that expectation. And if he does, will he be satisfied? He's happy where he is, and how far he's come. Now that the wonderment and stress has gone, he's feeling better about it. But Trott still has days that he can't believe it's real, waking up in the morning, having a cup of tea and staring at the sunlight glimmering off the medal in the dining room.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott gets sponsorship offers, which he wades through with the help of his coaches and Ross. It gives them some more financial security. Ross wondering if Trott would like to move closer to the training center. Trott focusing on the next big US event, thinking about Worlds. Ross splurging on taking some one on one lessons to up his cooking skills and to learn about what Trott needs to be eating.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Some sponsorship offers are for athletic apparel, and Trott spends a long time modeling the clothing for Ross. Ross laying on their bed, idly browsing houses up for sale on his phone, watching. Trott comparing brands and their practicality/comfort, dressed in new swim trunks and zip-hoodies with his name embroidered on the back.

Trott probably has so many clothes, from years of swim teams and then the gear from the Olympics.

There were big companies offering smaller sponsorships. Ross is biased about Hershey's offer, because he's big on sweets. They also make use of a hotel chain's sponsorship, knowing how much they travel, and thinking honeymoon options if they'll take one.

Trott takes Ross as his plus one to charity events. Being dressed up in designer suits is strange compared to what they normally wear, as is the attention from the press. Trott does most of the talking that night, networking and making nice with important people. Ross holds his hand at the banquet table between courses. Happy to share this moment with Trott, as always. He has yet to get tired of saying "my fiance" at work, or Trott introducing him to other people, and he doesn't think he'll get tired of it when they do get married. One of Trott's fellow swimmers catches him aside and congratulates them, tells him how in love they look. Trott laughs, somewhat embarrassed, but thanks them. Ross and Trott walk back to their hotel that overlooks the city, and stand out on the little balcony taking in the night sky and the lights. They kiss without bothering to worry about paparazzi. Too enamored with each other to care.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott gets sent so much stuff. Sunglasses, clothes, swim gear. It's overwhelming. Zoey helps him coordinate donating some of it to the youth swimmer program she sponsors.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Youth program outreach stuff is a good idea. Zoey and Fiona, and Trott and Ross, and other swimmers, helping out with a swimming summer camp one day. Surrounded by exuberant loud children.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross finds it strange sometimes, the sharp divide between his ordinary life and these events where everything is glittering. It feels so far from his very ordinary, messy desk at work and his packed lunches. But it is nice, when he can hold Trott's hand and steal bites of his dessert. It's weird to see his face in some magazine, next to Trott at one of these parties. They end up on a list of top out celebrity couples in some magazine and Ross is boggled when one of his coworkers puts it on his desk. There's a big of the two of them, from a trip they took down to LA for an event. They're both wearing sunglasses, walking in the morning light towards the arena and holding hands. The paparazzi shot of the two of them hugging, Ross' hand on the back of Trott's head. A shot of the two of them getting snow cones on the boardwalk.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Ross' coworkers tease him good-naturedly about the magazines. He keeps the copies he's given and puts it in a new photo album thing, collecting more pictures of Trott and him from graduation until present, planning on it being a wedding gift. They already have a lot of pictures of themselves, but there are smaller prints from their instagrams, and family photos as well, all in one place.

Ross has a picture of himself and Trott on his desk at work, of them sitting in the Olympic lounge. Medal around Trott's neck, Ross kissing his cheek.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross enduring frequent calls from his parents asking about their wedding plans, to the point that Ross starts openly speculating about eloping.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Ross' parents want to help with the wedding. Their enthusiasm is great to have, but oftentimes, it's too much. Everyone has an opinion on how they should do their wedding and where and when. Ross doesn't really care about any of that, but apparently you're supposed to? Trott has more of an opinion than he does. Both of them agree they don't want the parents trying to put together their wedding for them. As helpful as they are.

Fiona and Zoey let them rant about it, and give advice about when they got married.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott is watching, his arms on the back of the couch while Ross paces in the kitchen on his cell phone. Ross pulling his hand through his hair, frustrated and trying to end the conversation.

"What was that?"

"That," Ross groans. "Was my mom, wanting to know if I'm going to wear white to my wedding or a dark suit."

Trott snorts and Ross gives him a tired smile.

"Are you sure you don't want to just go to the courthouse tomorrow?" Ross asks for the tenth time. He's only half serious.

"We can have unhealthy food if we have a proper wedding," Trott says. He feels selfish, wanting a big day. As if the Olympics weren't already a big day. But Ross deserves it too, and Trott really wants this.

They're thinking maybe next year for the wedding. Trott looks at the schedules of the competitions, trying to figure out when he can wedge in a break with enough time to have a honeymoon. Pondering if he wants a winter wedding or a summer one. Trott daydreams about a winter honeymoon somewhere snow covered and with hot springs. Ross keeps socking away money to put as a down payment on a house.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Ross groans. "Trott, don't tempt me with food!" His phone goes off again, his sister sending him pics of possible flowers. Ross sighs. "I love you, so if that means slogging through this wedding madness, that's something I'll do."

"Sorry," Trott smiles sympathetically.

Ross shrugs. "It's worth it, in the end."

"Just think of all the food we'll eat."

"True..." Ross frowns, "Fuck, I hope we have time to eat. I don't care if we're on a schedule during the reception, people can wait for me to finish my stupidly expensive delicious dinner."

A winter wedding, after New Years. A nice rented cabin space, overlooking a frozen lake. The interior of the place has wooden beams, strung with paper lanterns and strands of lights.

kind of like this but not a barn:

[ http://cdn.wedding-spot.com/images/venues/4135/Birdsong-Barn-wedding-Titusville-fl-14_main.1433121723.jpg ](http://cdn.wedding-spot.com/images/venues/4135/Birdsong-Barn-wedding-Titusville-fl-14_main.1433121723.jpg)

[ https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/2b/9a/0b/2b9a0b4af31c1bb3bde4dcc230034707.jpg ](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/2b/9a/0b/2b9a0b4af31c1bb3bde4dcc230034707.jpg)

Alaska for the honeymoon? Fairbanks has plenty of cabins and hot springs, and Ross and Trott can watch the Northern Lights together.

[ http://www.explorefairbanks.com/maestro/articlefiles/images/fcvbarticle_e1075.jpg ](http://www.explorefairbanks.com/maestro/articlefiles/images/fcvbarticle_e1075.jpg)

 

 **Threeplusfire:** I love the idea of a winter wedding, and a honeymoon in Alaska. It feels soothingly remote, especially if they don't tell people where they are going before. Ross is sold on the idea of them getting to go somewhere with no one around. Plus a winter honeymoon means maximum snuggling in blankets, fireplaces and cozy spaces.

"Think of it as your bribe to go through with that whole wedding," Trott says, showing Ross pictures on his laptop.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** What do you think, do they want kids? I don't think they'd be swayed either way. They still have their careers and getting married yet, and it's not in the current agenda of their lives to have kids. It would bring up the issue of who stays home, as well, and Trott most of all would feel conflicted if he was still competing and Ross stayed home.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** I think Ross has a vague idea that maybe one day they'll have kids or something. He feels too young to consider it right now. Plus there's Trott's competition schedule. I think Ross works in a state office, and he's able to go down to 75% time, which makes his schedule a little more flexible. He loses a little on his salary but it is okay. But sometimes when he volunteers to help out at the kids' camp stuff, he watches Trott and thinks it might be nice. Zoey nudges him, amused by the look on his face.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Ross and Trott going cake tasting, eating all the samples.

(I went wedding cake Googling, of course.

I like the colors on this one, the white and gold? would be very pretty for a winter wedding:

[ http://sugarplumcakeshoppe.com/wp-content/gallery/wedding_cakes/20140329_160025.jpg ](http://sugarplumcakeshoppe.com/wp-content/gallery/wedding_cakes/20140329_160025.jpg)

these two are pretty similar, and more modern than a traditional wedding cake, but I liked the look of them:

[ http://sugarplumcakeshoppe.com/wp-content/gallery/wedding_cakes/dscf2064.jpg ](http://sugarplumcakeshoppe.com/wp-content/gallery/wedding_cakes/dscf2064.jpg)

[ http://sugarplumcakeshoppe.com/wp-content/gallery/wedding_cakes/dscf1256.jpg ](http://sugarplumcakeshoppe.com/wp-content/gallery/wedding_cakes/dscf1256.jpg) )

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross loves cake tasting.

"Come on Trott, we have to do a gold cake."

"Do we? Do we really?"

"Yes." Ross nods, licking his fork. I'll let you skip putting the rings on it, but the gold would be nice."

Trott rolls his eyes.

"It can be gold, so long as you don't make me eat coconut."

Ross wants a cake AND cupcakes. He'll let Trott arrange just about everything else pretty much how he wants, but Ross insists they have plenty of desserts. He goes along to all the appointments with Trott, mostly because it makes Trott happy and means they can spend time together. Ross' biggest contributions are in cake opinions, and buying Trott some ridiculous underwear for the day.

I love the squares, also more efficient for slicing and eating. Also look at this I'm in love with it.

[ http://www.brides.com/images/2012_brides/07-p54-klimt-kiss/large/gustav-klimt-the-kiss-art-nouveau-wedding-ideas-cake.jpg ](http://www.brides.com/images/2012_brides/07-p54-klimt-kiss/large/gustav-klimt-the-kiss-art-nouveau-wedding-ideas-cake.jpg)

These look almost like waves

[ http://www.rescake.com/postpic/2014/02/gold-and-white-square-wedding-cake_491781.jpg ](http://www.rescake.com/postpic/2014/02/gold-and-white-square-wedding-cake_491781.jpg)

Cupcakes:

[ https://www.instagram.com/p/BH25fG4AaUO/?taken-by=cupprimo ](https://www.instagram.com/p/BH25fG4AaUO/?taken-by=cupprimo)

[ https://www.instagram.com/p/BIxIlU9AF3X/?taken-by=cupprimo ](https://www.instagram.com/p/BIxIlU9AF3X/?taken-by=cupprimo)

 

**Ghostofgatsby:**

Just the two of them in the wintry Alaskan wilderness, drinking hot chocolate and cuddling by the fire, with no places to be.

Kids are a lot of work. Ross thinks it's amusing to see Trott get pulled around by them, taking up all his attention.

"If this is my free pass to eat as many desserts as possible, I'm gonna take it. You said we could eat unhealthy food..."

Trott likes feeling that Ross is more involved when they go together to the wedding planning things, and he doesn't feel like he's making all the decisions for Ross, again.

Oooh, very fancy. I like the one with the gold that almost looks like waves, too. I snickered for a while about Ross pointing that out and not being able to keep a straight face. It's pretty though. And I'm not normally a cupcake person, but those look really good.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross insists the wavy scrollwork was meant to be, Trott, we have to get that cake.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Maybe they could go for a cream and gold combo on the tuxes, like this:

[ https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/a6/fe/41/a6fe416990db82723d3c3e85e69aec75.jpg ](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/a6/fe/41/a6fe416990db82723d3c3e85e69aec75.jpg)

or black and gold:

[ https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/52/88/db/5288db6acb8c0289eb3b9e184c6d6e3e.jpg ](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/52/88/db/5288db6acb8c0289eb3b9e184c6d6e3e.jpg)

I couldn't really find one that fit exactly what I was looking for. most of the colors seemed too dark to me, even though darker colors are probably more common for winter weddings. maybe a gray suit jacket, over the cream shirt and vest, with a gold tie. like this:

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross frequently just tells his mom that the decisions are all up to Trott.

"Your mother is going to start calling me now, isn't she?"

"Probably."

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Phone rings while Ross is making dinner. He hands it to Trott.

Trott sighs and answers. "Hello, Mrs. Hornby. I'm good, how are you? Yes. He's making dinner right now...no, I didn't see that facebook post about wedding decorations..."

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Gold and ivory and winter red for the wedding. Trott anxious at times about the expense and Ross rolling him over in bed to remind him that it is worth it if this makes him happy. Not a huge wedding, but big enough with family and friends and coaches. Ross joking that they don't need to pay a photographer, they'll just tip off some magazine to send one. Trott pulls the blanket over his head.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** "All this planning won't matter when we get there, Trott. We'll get married, have the reception, and head off on our honeymoon." Ross leans over to pull the blanket off and kiss the back of Trott's neck.

"Weddings have fewer rings than the Olympics, but it's still stressful." Trott grumbles, rolling over to stare up at Ross.

"We still have time to elope, if you want." Ross smirks.

Trott throws the blanket over him.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott's so tired, between working and practice and planning a wedding. Sundays, he doesn't even want to leave the house. Not even for the promise of brunch. Ross fusses, worrying about Trott pushing himself too hard, and feeling guilty about letting Trott do most of the planning. Ross sits down to write the addresses for save the dates, sitting on the floor by the sofa where Trott's stretched out in a blanket.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Ross buys Trott gold underwear because, "Those are our colors, Trott! I wasn't gonna get you white underwear, that'd be boring."

 

 **Threeplusfire:** They're probably engaged for a little over a year, gives them time to sort things out. Ross doesn't mind waiting, and it makes it easier for Trott who is so used to having his months and seasons structured well in advance. It gives him time to shop for the best, skimpiest gold underwear he can find for Trott. A purchase entirely worth it for Trott's facial expression when he opens the package.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Hmm, I wonder what Trott got Ross…

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott buys Ross a very expensive, very nice leather belt. Trott had a moment, when he realized the price tag. But the leather is unbearably soft.

"This is so nice Trott. Now I feel bad about just buying you underwear no one else is going to see."

"No one knows," Trott agrees. He sits down, straddling Ross' lap. "But then people will see this and have no idea..."

Ross swallows hard as Trott loops the belt around Ross' wrists and pulls his hands up to pin them behind his head on the couch. Trott kisses him on the cheek, watching Ross carefully. He's been thinking about doing this for awhile. Ross is always so happy to do things for him, with his endless enthusiasm and patience. Trott thinks he's long overdue to start turning the focus back on Ross sometimes, and indulging his own desire to pin Ross down and kiss him senseless.

"If that's something you'd like," Trott says, his voice low.

"Fuck," Ross says, his eyes wide. He smiles, that quick and brilliant flash that always gets Trott. "Yes."

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** A nice leather belt, with a gold buckle.

Trott spending copious amounts of time teasing Ross and all the places he knows are the most sensitive. It lets him focus on what Ross likes, and what Ross wants him to do. And Ross looks so good doing as Trott asks.

Trott half wishing a BDSM supply company would sponsor him, so he'd get all sorts of gear for free. He has the money to spend on it, though. Especially on nice matching sets of bondage cuffs.

I always think these are nice to look at. And they fit the color motif!

[ http://www.coco-de-mer.com/products/coco-de-mer-brown-leather-wrist-cuffs-sm/ ](http://www.coco-de-mer.com/products/coco-de-mer-brown-leather-wrist-cuffs-sm/)

Also, Trott of course gets a nice pair of boots. Can't go wrong with those.

These are the sportiest leather pants I've ever seen. They look like sweatpants.

[ http://www.leatherandkink.com/LeatherImages/1292.jpg ](http://www.leatherandkink.com/LeatherImages/1292.jpg)

 

 **Threeplusfire:** (Coco de Mer is the best. Those cuffs are gorgeous. Also hah, those pants!!)

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** The closer it gets to the wedding, the more Ross helps out to take a little stress off of Trott. Calling to confirm all their orders. Answering the people who have RSVP'd. They make appointments to get fitted for their tuxes, and visit the place they're getting married/having the reception.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** They have so many appointments. Clothes. Venue. Cake. Catering. Photographer. There's a paper calendar on the bar in the kitchen, with things marked in various colors. Ross does a lot of the driving, and Trott zones out in the car. He sometimes offers to drive, but Ross says Trott drives like a grandpa. Trott wonders so often if he just takes advantage.

"I don't know if you've noticed, Trott, but my life is remarkably easy," Ross says. He has one hand on the wheel and the other lifts his soda. Ross insisted if they were driving around running errands, it was almost necessary to have a quick stop at the local burger chain. They have a pretty good veggie burger.

"Ross."

"But it is. I don't have the same kind of stress at work that you do." Ross thinks of Trott's training as his work.

"Would you have moved to Colorado?"

Ross shrugs.

"I would have moved somewhere, Trott. And if it wasn't with you, I'd be a lot more boring and eat a lot more crap."

Trott leans his head on his arm.

"You give up a lot of your video game playing time."

"Yeah. But I like it that way." Ross glances sideways at him. When they come to a stoplight, he reaches over and squeezes Trott's leg. "Hey. I want this life. I said yes, remember?"

Trott puts his hand over Ross', tangling their fingers.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott's work is his training, in Ross' opinion. It's what he gets paid for, and it has a lot of similarities to a real job.

Trott isn't sure if he _wants_ a real job, ever. He's too acclimated to the grind of training and competing. There's something calming he's always liked about getting up early and going in to do his morning laps in the pool. Not to mention being an athlete feels like it's more rewarding, when he can see his progress and all the obstacles he has to get over are only the ones he wants to tackle. There _is_ a lot of pressure, from his coaches, the press, and the national leaderboards, and that is the big difference between swimming and a "real job". In a real job, there isn't really a push to keep climbing higher and higher, if you're happy where you are on the corporate ladder. In the sports world, average isn't good enough.

"I remember. I just wonder, sometimes, how much of our life together is me making all the big decisions. My choice of career has influenced everything, from how much time we spend together, to where we live. I'm used to doing everything for myself first, and others second, and that's not always a good thing," Trott sighs. "I want you to know you have a choice in it all. I want you to be happy."

Ross lifts their entwined hands and kisses the back of Trott's palm. "I am happy Trott. I chose you, too. That what this ring means, to me."

"Anyway, the only video games I play are Fifa, CoD, and old Nintendo stuff. It's alright on a rainy day in, but I don't mind spending time with you instead. You're far more fun and interesting, Trott."

 

 **Threeplusfire:** The weirdest moment for Trott by far is when he is picked to be one of the Olympic athletes on the cereal boxes. It's a ridiculous paycheck for nothing as far as Trott is concerned. But it feels like work, and Trott just wishes halfway through the day he could be in the pool instead. Even if this is a great paycheck and he's had to see a financial advisor and get someone to do his taxes because this is more money than he'd ever imagined earning.

Sometimes Ross' coworkers ask him why he even works, if Trott's going to be a rich and famous athlete. Ross makes a face. It's not a sure thing. He shrugs and asks who would fix the enormous glaring problems in everyone's proposals if he wasn't around? Ross doesn't mind going to work. He's a lot more content when he goes to three quarter time, being able to shuffle his schedule to accommodate going out of town for a weekend meet. Not working seems ridiculous, and he needs health insurance.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** "Morning, Trott!" Ross posts to his instagram, under a picture of Trott's cereal box face.

"Oh, wait..." another picture of Trott eating cereal in rumpled pajamas, looking at his phone.

Ross actually really dislikes the cereal because it's so bland and tasteless. He tries adding sugar and it makes it worse, so he makes snack mixes and trail mix for Trott with it.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** "Trott, why couldn't you be on a box of frosted flakes or something?" Ross grumbling. He's on day four of experimenting with making the cereal edible. He's decided it's just going to have to become snack mix with some nuts and fruit bits. Ross smashes some up and uses it to fry up schnitzel for Saturday dinner.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** People judge Trott a lot more for having so much money. Trott dislikes it. He's still the same person he was before. He and Ross decide on charities to donate to, because they have more than enough between the two of them, so they can afford to do some good for others, too.

Ross working gives him and Trott a feeling of normalcy, when the celebrity and expectation gets to be too much. At the end of the day, Ross can come home and cook, and tell Trott about his boring work stuff. It's a security blanket, too, that if Trott would get injured or want to stop competing, they'd have steady income to fall back on. Making lots of money now doesn't mean they always will, or that success is guaranteed. The world is a changing place.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott and Ross make good use of Trott's scheduled times off, exploring their bedroom life. Ross wears far more clothes at his day job, so Trott feels justified in leaving a hickey or two on him. His discovery that Ross makes the most appealing, urgent noises when Trott bites down on him is a wonderful day. Trott says they have to try all the places, for science. They play little endurance games. How long can Ross keep still or keep silent, how long until he breaks down and begs for Trott to finish him off. Trott thrills to the way Ross tries to hold in his noises when Trott grazes his teeth up the inside of Ross' thigh.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott takes his time giving Ross lots of orgasms until he's a moaning, panting mess. Running his fingers through Ross' hair afterward and smiling at the look on his blissed-out face. Other times, winding Ross up and then pausing, making him wait patiently to continue.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** They totally break one of the supports to their bed one night, and the mattress tilting sideways nearly throws them both to the floor. Trott whacks a hand over his mouth, trying to smother the completely incongruous giggle. Ross braces himself, clinging to the headboard on his knees.

"Did we just break the bed?" he asks incredulously.

"We did," Trott gasps.

"Oh my god."

"Congratulations Ross, we broke the fucking bed."

They lose their composure completely. RIP cheap IKEA bedframe. Ross takes it apart later to put the mattress on the floor.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Going furniture shopping, because they wanted to look at couches for the new house, anyway. Keeping an eye out for salespeople while subtly trying to test the headboard and the frame strength. Laying on all the mattresses. They totally would have fallen asleep if the salespeople wouldn't have woken them up.

 

Please imagine Ross and Trott sneaking off from their wedding reception for a little bit. Giving each other blowjobs in a closet. Trott tugs Ross close by his belt, kissing him. Slowly undoing the buckle and sinking to his knees, slides Ross' belt free of his suit pants. Trott takes Ross wrists in hand to loosely tie them behind his back while Ross pants down at him.

"You're going to be a good boy for me and be quiet, aren't you, Mr. Hornby?" Trott murmurs loud enough to be heard over the thumping music coming from the dance hall.

"Fuck," Ross whimpers.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Yes to wedding blow jobs. Ross biting his lips, alternating between looking at Trott and closing his eyes because actually watching Trott is almost too much. Breathing hard, his hands clasped behind his back and fixed with the belt wrapped around his wrists.

"Trott," he chokes out, and Trott's hands tighten on him. Giving him silent permission to let go. Ross' legs shaking.

Trott's happy, quiet smile as he puts Ross back together, pulling up his pants as he gets up, and helping Ross put his belt back.

"I think you could win gold in that too," Ross jokes, hugging Trott and kissing him.

"Well we haven't seen your performance yet, have we?"

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** "We don't want to take too much longer..." Ross glances at the door.

Trott raises an eyebrow. "It won't be, if previous records hold true."

Ross smirks and kisses him, sinking to his knees and making quick work of Trott's pants. "Let me take care of this, then, Mr. Trott..." he says with a smile.

Trott has his back against the door, and his hand in Ross' hair as Ross goes down on him.

If anyone wonders why they look so flushed and out of breath when they go back to the reception, well, they'll just have to blame it on the dancing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for sports injury, sexual content

**Threeplusfire:** They totally sponsor the hometown high school swim team or something like that. Donate money to a program to get pool passes and swim lessons for kids. They have to go back, at some point, to visit Ross' family anyhow. (Is Trott close to his family at all? Or are they ciphers?) Ross uses his ordinary self as a buffer. Ross can ask people with cameras to stop, when Trott feels like he can't. He's never treated Trott any differently whether he wins or loses a race, in all the years. Trott needs that a lot, someone who just looks at him as a person first and the world class athlete later.  


 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** I'm thinking Trott grew up in a single parent, single child household, for whatever reason. Maybe has a distant set of aunts and uncles and a few cousins, but they lives states away and he's only met them a handful of times when he was a kid. I think his parent works a lot, maybe as a lawyer or something time-consuming and business-y. They're not close, as a result. Maybe neither of his parents really wanted kids- Trott came as a surprise, his parents divorced, and the better off parent finance-wise took him in.

So I think Trott and his parent hardly talk. They have a strained, awkward relationship. Trott calls on holidays, and when he and Ross are in town, they meet for a brief lunch. Most of which the parent spends on the phone making business calls. Trott spent a lot of time being passed around from baby-sitter to baby-sitter when he was a kid, and when he was old enough to stay by himself he often was left alone. Became self-sufficient at a young age.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross finds it sad and weird how disconnected Trott's parent is. Can see the resignation in Trott's eyes as they eat lunch. Afterwards they walk back to Ross' parents' house, where they are staying for the weekend, and Ross holds Trott's hand very tightly.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott's the most hardworking, ambitious man Ross knows. He doesn't understand how Trott's parent can be so blase. Trott's achieved a dream that few have and fewer succeed in. It's not fair to Trott, that he had wanted to impress and make his parent proud, but never got praise or much acknowledgement in return.

Ross' family is very supportive of Trott, in contrast, and liked him a lot when Ross first introduced them. They always try to make Trott feel comfortable and included when visiting. Once Ross and Trott call to say they're getting married, Ross' parents insist Trott call them mom and dad instead of Mr. and Mrs. Hornby.

If Ross has a sister who has kids, that makes Trott an uncle, too. Which is a new experience for him. Surprisingly, the children-talk is at a minimum on the visit. Probably because Trott talks about the upcoming competitions.

Ross' nieces/nephews are getting older, and everyone expresses excitement at seeing Trott compete in person someday. Trott smiles a little bashfully at that, surprised they'd really want to make such an expensive trip just for him.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ever since Trott became a serious fixture in Ross' life, he gets a present under the Christmas tree and a standing invite to holidays. When they get engaged, Ross' mom knits Trott a stocking to go with all the family ones. Ross has an older sister with a couple kids. It's a close, fairly happy family. Ross has some private talk with his mom, during their visit, about how Trott's parent didn't seem to care at all and how Ross doesn't know what to do.

The nieces and nephews want Trott to demonstrate his swimming powers. Ross' mom shoos them all to the dinner table. Ross with his arm around Trott, feeling so utterly happy. Even if his mom is going to have a million thoughts about wedding things.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** (assuming this talk is when Ross and Trott first met their respective parents)

"You know us, Ross," His mom says as they bake cookies together. Trott and the rest of the family are in the living room with the tv on and the sound of the kids playing in the background. "Family's important to us, no matter how close or far, in distance or togetherness. But not everyone has the life we do, or the good things we have. No family is perfect, but not all families are made by blood alone."

"I want to make him feel loved here, Mom. He means a lot to me, and I want him to have the same sort of support I do. Trott deserves that," Ross sighs, "He's so shut off sometimes, but I can't blame him for the parentage he had. They were so cold and uncaring, it made me miserable."

Ross' mom smiles sympathetically. "All we can do is be there if he needs it. We can offer our home, our time, and our family, and hope that he feels comfortable here. If your life is something he wants to be a part of, Ross, he'll make the effort. I've said it before, but your friends and your significant others are always welcome."

"And what about Trott's family?"

Ross' mom sighs. "It's up to Trott how much contact he wants with them. Holding grudges isn't a healthy thing, in my opinion, but time can't necessarily heal everything. If it's a relationship that hurts, he has to really think about the benefits of that. People can change, but personal well-being is important; you shouldn't have to sacrifice that to make someone else happy."

Ross nods, shaking sprinkles onto cutout cookies after his mother frosts them. "I'll support him, even if no one else does," Ross declares.

"Trott has more support than he probably thinks. I'm sure he appreciates the things you do for him, Ross." His mom pats his back. "Take care of yourself, too, sweetie. All that advice can still apply to you. You don't have to be someone's biggest, tireless supporter to show them how much you love them."

"Well- I mean- I haven't said... _that_ , yet..." Ross mumbles.

His mom tuts and rolls her eyes, hip checking him on her way towards the sink to wash her hands free of icing. "You're _obvious_ ," she teases over her shoulder with a grin, "but I'm pretty convinced he feels the same way."

 

The kids are always excited to see their uncles, hanging off Trott's arms and tugging him through the house to show him something.

"Easy, you're gonna rip my arms out of their sockets, and then how am I gonna get any gold medals?"

"Uncle Ross could get you gold medals, couldn't he?"

Trott snickers. "I don't think he could give out official ones. That's a job for the judges in the Olympic trials."

They get the kids swim goggles for Christmas, for when they start taking lessons. The family laughs, watching them run around the house with the goggles on, mock-swimming. "I'm gonna be as fast as Uncle Trott, someday! Whooosh!"

Ross is (only slightly) jealous that his nieces and nephews think Trott's the cooler uncle.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott is definitely the cool uncle. Ross is the uncle who will let them eat ice cream all afternoon when he's keeping an eye on them for his sister. She is forever exasperated with him. Ross teaches them how to bake things, makes them brownies and lets them lick the bowl. But Trott's cool, because he's on a cereal box and in the Olympics. They're terribly disappointed they can't borrow the medal for show and tell at school. Trott does take them to the pool at the gym and teach them how to dive in.

Trott's parent comes to the wedding, but barely stays for any of the reception. Trott's not sure if he's disappointed or relieved. I sort of want to say it's his father. That his mother wasn't interested in raising a kid, that she had plans to go follow her dreams, so she left the kid with his father and would vanish for long stretches. Show up briefly from time to time. Get annoyed that Trott wasn't properly affectionate and grateful for her visits, when she could spare it from painting or traveling or whatever she decided to do. His dad is in real estate or law perhaps.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott's mom wanting to do something in theater, be a Broadway actress or set designer and director, but never made it that far. having a kid to take care of would have ruined her chances.

The irony of Trott's mom trying to impress him every time she shows up, but he shows as much interest in her as his father does. I think at some point she dropped out of Trott's life, maybe once he reached twelve or so. He'd get gift cards in the mail for his birthday, sometimes postcards, all from different addresses. Trott considers trying to find her multiple times throughout his teenage years, but he doesn't know where she lives. and if she really cared about being a part of his life, she'd make the effort to keep in touch. Trott was probably very bitter about it for a while, making up good portion of teenage angst.

Hm...real estate. Trott growing up hearing his father talk a lot about buying and selling property. sitting in open house viewings after school, tucked away in a little office doing his homework or playing his gameboy while his dad shows clients around.

Trott taking up swimming, when his dad lets him continue lessons at a young age (so he won't have to watch him for that time period). Trott always being the one kid who's parent is always late picking them up, or who needs a ride home. One summer, he joins his first swim team. Their first competition comes up, and Trott's nervous and excited. His dad begrudgingly goes along, grumbling about being busy with work and taking the day off.

When Trott places first in his event, he grins excitedly, standing in the pool listening to his team and the crowd cheer for him. He looks towards the section in the stands where his dad should be sitting, but no one's there, and his face falls. At the end of the meet, he finds his dad waiting outside the locker rooms, on the phone with some business client. "Dad, dad, I got first!" he tugs on his sleeve. His dad nods with wide eyes, mouthing "good job" and giving him a thumbs up. but then continues on with his phone call.

Man, Olympic Trott's dad _sucks_.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Olympics Trott has the worst parents, agreed. I can see little Trott being that kid the coach finds sitting outside in the twilight, still waiting. His dad totally forgot/was busy with work. Trott ends up walking home/getting a ride from some sympathetic parent or his coach a LOT. Enough to make people sigh and shake their heads.

His mom is like those flaky British heiresses of the early 20th century, who swan around doing things and leaving their kids behind. She's *artistic* and it would just never suit her temperament to have a child around, don't you know. Probably gives some interview cause she has a play on or something going off Broadway, and drops that she has a Olympic winning son. Trott's furious when some reporter calls him about it, manages to say he can't talk right now but if they call back tomorrow he'll say something. Ross has never seen him so mad. He's actually shaking. Somewhere along the way, he's sketched out the details of his disinterested parents. But this dredges up all the anger and hurt.

"At least my father's never used me to try to sell houses...how dare she!" Trott pacing, having thrown his phone down hard enough the back popped off.

"It is really shitty," Ross agrees. He's kneeling on the floor, putting Trott's phone back together. At least it was on the carpet, so the screen isn't broken. Ross hopes the downstairs neighbors aren't home to listen to Trott thumping about.

"Fuck her!" Trott crosses his arms. "What the fuck am I going to say to that reporter?"

Ross ends up helping him come up with something short and simple, that doesn't use the word fuck.

_Unfortunately my mother hasn't been a part of my life for many years now. While I wish I could attribute any of my success to her, that simply isn't true._

It's one of those minor things that flares on websites and newspapers for a day. Trott refuses to take the day off, goes to practice. Grimly ignores the couple reporters outside the training center, and Fiona meets him at the car to walk with him inside. Gives Trott an aggressive workout, and sends him home to Ross.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott's mom sends one invite ticket for her show to Trott's dad's address, and his dad mails it onward. When Trott gets it, he shreds it into tiny pieces and sulks around the house for the rest of the day. Sitting on the couch before dinner, not really watching tv, seething.

After dinner, Ross catches him before he leaves the kitchen, and wraps his arms around him. Dinner had been awkward, and Trott hadn't said much. "Do you want to help me make dessert? My mom always baked something when my sister or I were upset."

"Your mom bakes all the time." Trott mumbles into his shoulder.

Ross rubs his back silently.

Trott sighs. "Alright. What do you have in mind?"

Ross hands him a little cookbook, full of handwritten recipes that Trott recognizes as being in Ross' mom's handwriting. He flips through, reading the recipe names at the top of each page. Light lemon fluff, date pinwheel cookies, banana cream pie. Towards the back are recipes in Ross' handwriting. Pumpkin scones, angel food cake, chocolate-hazelnut cookies. The word "light" is written in the top corner of those.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott's capable of simmering, wrathful brooding. He can hold onto a hurt. It makes Ross a little nervy, the storm atmosphere. But he knows he has to let Trott be angry for a bit, before trying to pull him back. He's learned it doesn't do any good to try force it too soon or to make Trott talk when he's not ready.

Ross has a recipe for a good peach pie. His best oatmeal cookies. Almond butter brownies. Peanut butter cookies. It makes Trott ache a little. He has a spiteful moment being angry at his mom, who never made cookies or did anything like that. But it passes, and he's looking at Ross pulling his favorite mixing bowl out of the cabinet.

"Cookies," Trott says finally. Ross likes to eat the leftovers in the bowl.

"Do you want the oatmeal ones, or the chocolate?" Ross has his head in the fridge.

"What about the peanut butter ones?" Trott's looking at one of the recipes in Ross' mom's handwriting.

"My mom's?" Ross smiles. "They're good, but those are definitely super buttery."

"The world won't end if I eat some cookies." Trott puts the book on the bar, and opens the pantry. He measures out the flour and baking soda, the sugar poured on top of the butter. Watches Ross stir everything contently, eating the last of the peanut butter off a spoon. There's something soothing about it, and it does make the place smell nice.

Ross eats cookie dough off the spatula, and Trott aches again for how much he loves him. The eat warm cookies standing up in the kitchen, and Trott leans into Ross. This is his family now, he thinks.

Ross' mom calls, when she sees the story in the news. She's a little too polite to say what she really thinks, but Ross feels vindicated by his mother's sigh and "Well, bless her heart. Some people really struggle."

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross dragging Trott out on Friday nights or Sunday afternoons to go drive around looking at houses and neighborhoods. Ross wondering aloud if Trott wants to have a pool.

"Ross, I don't think we can afford a house that has an olympic sized pool."

"Well, maybe not a whole Olympic pool. But we could put in a lap pool."

"We could..." Trott narrows his eyes and looks at the back yard. "Or we could just have a hot tub."

"You don't want to train at home?"

"Not really." Trott shrugs.

They look at a lot of houses. Trying to find something that is located in a reasonably nice place, not terribly far from the training center. Ross wrinkles his nose and makes under his breath comments about the paint and decor in places they visit.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** "Hot tub sounds nice. We could put up some trellises, and hang outdoor lights. I could grill in the summer."

Trott smiles, and agrees, but he thinks about the money they might need to fix an older house.

Training at home would separate Trott's work-home divide. The longer he competes for a living, the more important it is to have that.

"We can change it." Trott keeps reminding Ross while they look at houses. Carpet, fixtures, and paint are all cosmetic. Definitely something with a porch, a fireplace, hardwood floors, and old charm to it.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross muffles a little scream at the weird paisley wallpaper combined with the carpet. Trott rolls his eyes. The real estate agent asks if they're alright, those basement stairs are a little steep.

"Do you think we could both fit in that bath tub?" Ross asks, studying the big jetted tub in the master bath of a place they're visiting. Trott looks at him sideways.

"Ross, are you-"

"Trott, it's important we know before we put an offer down." Ross looks dead serious. Trott climbs into the bath tub and sits there, waiting.

"Well, are you getting in? We don't have all day."

Ross looks at everything, thinking about their daily lives in different spaces. He thinks about how it would nice to have a space for an office of sorts. Somewhere to do all the paperwork of Trott's winning and training. And a fireplace for cold nights, so they can lay there on the sofa together. Somewhere that it would be easy for Trott to sit while Ross putters in the kitchen.

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Ross starts watching HGTV for decorating ideas, and Trott teases him about it.

"There's a surprising amount of leg room in here," Ross say from in the bath tub, moving his feet through imaginary water. The real estate agent finds them sitting in the bathtub after they had their first look of the house, but she laughs instead of making an awkward comment.

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross with handfuls of paint color cards, watching HGTV when Trott comes home from practice.

"Trott do you feel more like a sugared lime person, or a mint?"

"Uh, neither of those." Trott making a face. "I feel like someone who needs dinner."

"I meant for the bathrooms."

"Ross, we are not painting the bathrooms green."

"But-"

"No, I don't care what you saw today. No green. The bathrooms at the center are green."

"Fine," Ross mock groans. "No green."

"Thank you."

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Does Ross paint the bedroom blue to match the ocean theme again? I think that would be the one color Trott would let slide.

Trott picks out mostly neutral tones, and agrees to have accent colors for certain rooms. Ross wants some brighter hues, yellows, maybe an orange, but Trott reminds him they can always repaint, and lighter colors are easier to paint over.

"Have you been watching HGTV without me?" Ross asks, "Because you know a lot about houses."

"No, I just took random art, finance, and interior decorating classes at college, to fill in my electives."

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross picks out a bunch of blues and spreads them out on the table for Trott to peruse. Ross has plans, for blues, white, grey and a soft, sandy kind of gold. It will be like the beach without involving wicker or seashells. Trott looks skeptical but Ross swears it won't be tacky or look like a hotel room. While Ross arranges his paint samples and flips through a catalog looking at fridges (they'll have to get a new one for the place) Trott shops on his phone. He's going to surprise Ross a new TV, for his movie watching. Movie night is very important to Ross. He makes popcorn and some annoyingly healthy snack, sometimes buys ice cream, and they watch a movie. It's usually a weekend night, unless they have somewhere to be. They probably have some friends - Trott's fellow athletes, a couple coworkers Ross gets on with well, someone at the neighborhood bakery/coffee shop that Ross befriended.

Ross jokes a lot that buying a house is easier than planning a wedding. There's just the hunting, and the bidding, the waiting and then ten thousand signatures. Their real estate agent gets them a bottle of champagne. They sit on the empty floor of their place, and Ross thinks about how much painting there is to do before they get to actually move in. Plus they need to buy that fridge.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Ross stays home from work to get painting done. Trott visits the house each day to find rooms painted, windows open, and Ross snoring on the floor with a million fans going. Ross saves their bedroom for last, and keeps the final product a secret from Trott. The day all the painting is done and dried, they move the furniture in, and decorate. Only half of it gets done, so they sleep in the guest room they set up for the night. When Trott comes home from work the next day, he slowly takes a tour of the house, looking at all the pictures hung up and the furniture they picked out together. Ross is hanging up a shelf in the laundry room when Trott finds him. "Hey! Did you see the bedroom yet?" "Not yet." Trott holds out his hand for Ross, and Ross grins and takes it, leading him down the hallway to the closed door at the end of the hall.

Ross and Trott having a little housewarming party with their friends, when everything's painted and they're moved in properly.

Their next door neighbors are a friendly old lady and a couple with a newborn. It's a fairly quiet neighborhood, with well-paved streets and sidewalks, and a good amount of trees to shade the backyard.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** This one? They might as well have the fancy pottery barn bed of my dreams.

[ http://www.potterybarn.com/products/clara-wood-lattice-bed/?pkey=cbeds-headboards%7Cwood-beds-headboards&&cbeds-headboards|wood-beds-headboards ](http://www.potterybarn.com/products/clara-wood-lattice-bed/?pkey=cbeds-headboards%7Cwood-beds-headboards&&cbeds-headboards%7Cwood-beds-headboards)

Ross has put so much effort into making their bedroom perfect. From the big fluffy towels in the master bath to the new bed, to Trott's favorites of their pictures. He bought brand new sheets and bedding, new pillows, even found a fluffy rug to put under the bed so Trott won't step out and chill his feet. There's a chaise tucked in a corner by the window, for reading. It's long enough even that if one of them got a bad cold and couldn't sleep lying down, they could sleep in that instead of being consigned to the living room.

Ross leans on the doorframe and watches Trott, anxious to know if he likes the pale blue of the walls and the sandy colored trim, the reading lamp with the mosaic shade that Trott admired one day a long time ago. He even stocked the bedside tables. There's a tiny fridge hidden in the one on Trott's side, and all the cuffs and lube and things are neatly stowed in the one on Ross' side. (Ross thought that was very clever.)

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Nice, I really like the lattice pattern. And it would go well with the beach sort of theme, too.

Trott takes his time, looking over everything, opening the drawers, feeling the bedding and the rug. His back is towards Ross, and he doesn't say anything. He sits down on the edge of the chaise, staring out the window.

"Do you like it?" Ross finds himself saying out loud.

"Ross..." Trott clears his throat, as Ross crosses the room towards him. "Ross, it's- it's so _nice_..." he whispers.

Trott's smiling, and teary eyed. He stands up to hug him. "You put all this together for us."

"Yeah, I did." Ross hugs him tightly. "You like it, then? I was so nervous, and excited, to let you finally see it."

"I love it, Ross. It feels very homey."

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross is overwhelmed with happiness and relief.

"I thought I'd go less obvious with the water theme this time," he teases Trott. "I did think about making the bathroom look like an aquarium though..."

Trott snorts, and pushes him backwards towards the bed.

"Guess we should test out that frame then, see how squeaky it is..."

"There's foam to keep it from banging the wall," Ross says, the tiniest bit smug with his forethought. Trott looks at him, and smiles in that devastating way that makes Ross feel a bit weak at the knees. He fists his hand in Ross' shirt.

"Should test it out, just to make sure," Trott says.

There's a lot of pleasure in having a house. Little things, like sitting on the porch drinking coffee, or the quiet of turning out the lights at night. Having an extra capacity washer and dryer. A fridge with an ice maker. Having the walls painted, the creaky wooden floor. Their neighbors, especially the older woman next door with her garden. Ross finds himself strangely happy with trading cookie recipes with his neighbors. Going to the farmer's market on the weekends.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Their older neighbor of course offers all the extra tomatoes and peppers she grows in her garden. Ross makes a lot of spaghetti sauce and salsa. Ross and Trott enjoy their comfy house and married life. At some point, they sit down and Trott talks seriously about what he wants or thinks he wants in the future. To keep competing. He talks about feeling like he has a legacy to uphold, that he can't quit now, when he has such a global presence. Ross reassures him that no matter what, he should do this because he's happy doing it. Not because of anyone else. "I _am_ happy." Trott remarks, meeting Ross' eyes. Ross smiles back. "I'm glad. Me too."

 

 **Threeplusfire:** "It's magic Trott. I don't know how she makes plants grow." Ross holds up a tomato. "Look at this!"

Trott nods, trying not to laugh.

"It's huge! But it tastes good!" Ross has a tiny row of herbs growing, in the strip along the house. He hasn't quite worked up to growing anything more complicated. But even keeping those together requires some attention. For dinner he's making a salad with slices of tomato and peaches, quick pickled red onion on the stove, a little mint.

He has a list of things Trott is supposed to be eating, some adjustments to his diet as training goes into an intense phase. It's taped up on the fridge. Trott's grateful Ross is so invested in food and willing to do all this work. Probably if it was just him, he'd be eating at the cafeteria at the training center or living on peanut butter and smoothies. Trott finds all the meal planning daunting, but Ross seems to enjoy it. He's even got a spreadsheet that helps him generate grocery lists. Trott will help with little things, prep or setting the table, or cleaning the dishes.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott helps Ross put together a quick and healthy stir fry. He cuts up all the vegetables and the chicken, and watches Ross fry it up in a pan.

Ross likes the challenge of converting recipes and finding things to incorporate into Trott's meals. Trott and Ross gladly exchange recipes around with other swimmers. Luckily, the variety of options prevents meals from getting bland or too repetitive.

 

The 2017 World Aquatics Championships are held in Budapest, Hungary. When Trott and Ross arrive, they find the summer climate is similar to Colorado. But whereas Colorado Springs is nestled in gray and white mountains, Budapest is larger, greener, and darker, and the city sprawls along the Danube River. The architecture is rich with history, and the streets are filled with all manners of goods and foods and market wares. In the wait-time before the competition, Ross and Trott walk through the streets of Budapest, sharing bites of street food and bumping elbows from keeping so close. The city is full of music, parks, and museums. There's so much to see and do. Ross eats so much food, he spends the rest of the night feeling full in his hotel room.

The day of the competition, Trott gets ready alongside the rest of the US Swim Team. For a long time, longer than he really should, he stares down at the ring on his finger, spinning it around and around. It's the first competition he'll have to take it off at, and the fact makes him pause- he's never taken it off up until now.

Trott slowly slips the ring off his finger, having to wiggle it a little over his knuckle. He hangs up his jacket in the locker room and carefully drops the ring into his pocket.

Ross will be watching out in the stands, and he'll be there when Trott leaves. In all honesty, as much sentimentality as his ring holds, Ross' support means worlds more. It makes the weird, temporarily ring-less feeling a little easier.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross sleeps poorly, his stomach too full. It's also the strangeness of sleeping alone. It throws him, when Trott has to go off to stay in the athlete's accommodations. The bed is strange, and lonely. The view is pretty when he wakes up bleary and confused in the morning. The coffee is strong, and he's grateful for it.

In the stands, Ross has a pretty good view. He wishes someone had come with him. He feels like he needs a hand to hold. There have been plenty of meets, mock competitions and real ones, leading up to worlds. Trott qualified easily, sailing through his races. He's fully committed now, to the idea of competing and going on. Ross thinks about watching him, late at night in the gym pool back home.

Trott flies through the qualifying rounds, easily picking up spots by coming in first or second in his races. Ross shouts himself hoarse, leaping out of his seat and cheering every time Trott hits the wall. Thinking that surely, if he just yells loud enough, Trott will know he's there.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Poor sleep makes Ross think of college, and the nights he had too much work to do but wanted to talk to Trott anyway. Up late, with very little sleep. Those nights mostly went away, with graduation and his job, and Trott. But with Trott not with him, the bed is empty, and he misses being able to cuddle up to him in the brief moments between being asleep and being awake. 

Ross thinks about how far away that first summer seems. It was only a few years ago, wasn't it? But so much has happened in that time. Ross can remember moments between himself and Trott, sitting side by side at the pool edge, sipping coffee and talking. When things progressed between them. Ross would sit at the far end of the pool and watch Trott do his late night laps. Every few reps, Trott would pause at the end where Ross was, lean up against the wall with water drops on his face and shoulders, goggles pushed up, and kiss him. They got carried away more than a few times, and Ross often leaned too far forward and fell into the pool. It usually led to Trott laughing at him as they kissed, and then pushing him towards the ladder on the side with a teasing "get out of my lane, Hornby!"

 

In between rounds, Trott stands near the benches, dripping wet with a towel around his shoulders. His team and coaches congratulate him when the announcers tell what he's placed. Trott smiles and scans the crowd in search of dark hair and a bright smile, wishing he knew where Ross decided to sit each time. It takes him most of the next round, but he spots him. Ross gives him a little wave. Trott beams back.

Ross wishes there were other people who had the money and time to go along to Trott's events. That maybe he should make a closer friendship with another athlete's partner or spouse, so he has someone to cheer with. It's alright to go alone, but...he wants people to see Trott the way he does.

Ross makes himself hoarse, yelling so much.

"I may have slightly lost my voice," he rasps to Trott, grinning at him when they meet up again.

Trott shakes his head and smiles.

After the meet, Trott lays in Ross' hotel room while Ross massages his back and shoulders. It's almost a post-meet tradition, now. The tv reporter is covering the Worlds event, and one of the photos of Trott is the one where he's grinning up at Ross.

"That's a really great photo," Trott comments with a happy sigh.

"Mhm...you look great in those wet swim trunks, too." Ross murmurs, slowly kissing down his spine.

Trott laughs.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Years of practice have made Ross pretty good at working Trott into a limp, happy state. Ross always internally says a prayer for Trott not to get hurt. He's not really sure who or what he's praying to, but he does.

"Though it's a shame they don't let you wear the tiny speedos the guys on the diving team wear..." Ross squeezes Trott's thigh.

"They'd come off in the pool." Trott lets his head fall back on the bed.

"What if you just swam naked in the first place?"

"Can't do that," Trott yawns. "Too much drag."

Ross snorts.

"Your giant dick is the only thing holding you back, Trott."

"It's true," Trott mumbles. "Slows me down when I swim. I only keep it for my husband."

Ross laughs quietly. It still gives him a little thrill when Trott calls him that. He kisses the backs of Trott's legs.

"Maybe that husband of yours should show you some appreciation."

"Mm. He does." Trott with his eyes closed, smiling. Ross pressed into him from behind, kissing his way back up to Trott's shoulders. When Ross rolls him over, Trott opens his eyes.

"You're so good to me, Ross."

Ross kisses him, slowly. Leaves the TV on, just in case there's anyone in the room next door. Strokes Trott gently with one hand, enjoying how pleased and blissful he looks.

 

Ross gets more emotional about Trott's fan mail than Trott does sometimes. Especially the ones from kids just starting at the sport, or kids who feel like it isn't a contradiction to be queer and in sports when they can look to someone like Trott. There aren't many out athletes. He knows Trott resents a little bit being labelled "American's Gay Swimming Star" sometimes. He's glad enough to support the cause but he doesn't want that to be the thing people think when they see him. He does an interview or two, not very often, about being gay and in sports.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** The fan mail makes Ross think about his own identity, and how he wanted living proof of that being okay. Of normal people with normal lives, who just happened to have an orientation other than straight. Even if the kids who write in aren't LGBT-identified, he's happy that they see such a great role model in Trott. He knows not all have great parents that support their success- Trott didn't, either. Trott's worked so hard to get where he is. For Ross, the mail is proof that Trott always has a greater support system than he thinks. All these people who root for him.

Trott and balks at the amount of fan mail they have to sort through. He doesn't know how he's going to have time to ever get through all the letters. On long, hard days where Fiona pushes Trott through a rigorous workout, Trott and Ross lay on the couch or in bed, and Ross reads the letters aloud to him. Trott can't really wrap his head around the scope of his influence. He doesn't think he's all that special, or any different than his fellow teammates.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott's never quite comfortable with the media attention, especially when it veers away from the sport and into his personal life. He's fierce about protecting his privacy. He struggles not to get resentful when reporters ask the same questions over and over.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** The attention of the press always feels strange to Trott. The longer things go on, the more criticism he sees. It's hard to get rid of the intrusive thoughts that others put in his head. He's good at dismissing them- or he used to be. Finally making it to the Olympics the first time was one the highlights of his life. Everything he'd been working towards was suddenly in the palm of his hand. What comes next? The question the reporters once asked repeats. More competitions, another Olympics in the horizon. Trott loves what he does, and he doesn't want to quit anytime soon. But the stress built up and now...now what?

 

 **Threeplusfire:** When they get back, Ross starts trying to build better friendships with the people around Trott's world. Zoey and Fiona are easy, and already friends. There's some team social events, and Ross goes to all the "family day" stuff for the US swim team. Ross makes friends with some of the wives, the girlfriends, the rare boyfriend or husband. It's nice to talk with people who understand the other side, the time that goes into being the supportive partner. One of the other swimmers in the relay team is married, and his wife becomes Ross' closest friend in the athlete circle. He likes her so much because she's utterly determined not to be a housewife or bake cookies or anything that smacks of traditional feminine roles. Ross brings her a box of oatmeal and peanut butter cookies, which makes her laugh and invite him in for coffee. She writes TV recaps which are popular, and they talk about movies.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** She's very sporty and outdoorsy, and knows how to fix anything mechanical, but has no idea how to cook anything. Ross offers to help her with recipes, considering the swim team's diet, but she declines. Her husband always brings back good food from the cafeteria at the center, and she'd "probably set the stove on fire if I tried to cook something edible."

Ross and her get hooked on television shows, and have coffee the morning after an episode airs to talk about it. When competitions roll around, and their shows are on the night before a meet, they sit in each other's hotel rooms to watch it, eat ice cream, and miss their respective spouses.

Sometimes Ross and Trott, and the other swimmer and his wife, go out to see a movie or catch dinner. Sometimes they host each other at their homes, having movie marathons or game nights.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** For their fanmail, Ross buys a ton of postcards from the Olympic center and keeps a box of them around already stamped. Sometimes he can persuade Trott to write a line or two and sign them. Ross addresses them all and pops them in the mail. They volunteer a couple times a year at kids swim camps, in Colorado Springs and back home. Trott turns down most of the fancy events he's invited to, unless it's something he has to do for a sponsor. He does get invited to a few movie premieres, and Ross begs him to accept one for a film he's excited about. Trott says yes only because it makes Ross so happy. Mostly they live a quiet life and he likes that.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Eventually, I think Trott probably does get hurt, even though he's adamant about not overdoing it. Maybe when the second Olympics starts approaching, and news feeds have a lot of speculation as to how he'll perform. He pushes himself a little harder than he should. Pulls a muscle in his back lifting weights- nothing too serious, at first, but enough to scale back his training.

I was reading about swimming injuries, which mainly affect the shoulders or rotator cuffs. Sometimes arms, neck, or back, too, but those are more commonly caused by cross-training. Most injuries are caused by overworking and/or stress. A rotator cuff tear seems to be the most common. Then there's tendinitis, which is inflammation of the joints and tendons, and tendinosis, which is microscopic tears in the connective tissue and damage to the tendon. Tendinitis would take several weeks to a couple months to heal; tendinosis, depending on the amount of damage and healing process, could take anywhere from three to six months, to a year. These are all swimming related, though, and there are probably a lot more possible injuries due to crosstraining stuff.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott's always been so careful, and he takes a personal offense at having injured himself. He and Ross have an argument about him taking some steps to lighten up his load, and Trott ends up yelling and walking out of the room. They've fought before, but this feels worse somehow and Ross is frustrated and hurt and miserable about it. Trott slams the door, sunk into a hoodie, and is down the street for a walk. They aren't far from a park. Ross washes the pan from dinner, headphones on so he can't make himself hope every noise is Trott opening the door again. He cleans to fill up the time, worrying more the longer Trott's gone. He wants to sit there with his laptop, researching everything about back muscles and strains, but part of their argument stemmed from Ross' need to instantly know everything about whatever Trott is dealing with.

"Just because you read about it doesn't mean you know what it is like! You're not my coach, or my keeper!" He can't stop hearing the words, and wonders if he's trying too hard, smothering Trott in his good intentions. Ross finally goes upstairs to take a shower when Trott hasn't come back after an hour. He leaves the front door unlocked, because Trott didn't take his keys.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott walks to the park, shaking with frustration, upset at himself more than anything. There's no one around because it's so late at night, but he still pulls his hood up. If any lurking members of the press are around, he doesn't want to talk, or start any rumors.

Trott sits on the playground swings with his head in his hands. The position makes his back ache, and that only makes him feel worse. Yelling at Ross wasn't the answer. Trott knows Ross cares and only wants to help. But Trott's banned from training until he heals, and it's making him stir crazy. He should be swimming. He shouldn't have pushed himself the other day. He fucked up, and now he has to deal with it- and Ross, no matter how much good he does, can't fix it. His caring is suffocating, because Trott feels powerless. He needs to be able to do things for himself right now, because independence is such a big deal for him.

Trott finds himself crying unexpectedly, and slowly sits up, wiping his face with his sleeve. His back aches and he's torn between wanting to go home and not being able to face Ross. He doesn't know what to say, or how to say it. His anger has dimmed, but Ross would probably find him a heating pad and a blanket, and make him a cup of tea when he returns, and Trott doesn't know if he'll snap at him again. He can do things himself- he's always done things himself, and he doesn't need anyone's help or coddling. He's _fine_ -

Except he isn't.

All because of a stupid injury. It won't happen again- it _can't_ happen again, Trott won't let it, and he and his coaches will do everything they can to prevent it. He didn't come this far just to get banned because of an injury. He has to keep going. He _has_ to.

Trott walks back home, and silently goes inside. He can hear the fan in the bathroom running and guesses Ross took a shower. For once, he doesn't want to sleep in the bedroom, so he gets a heating pad, blanket, and pillow, and curls up on the couch in the living room. He's too afraid that he'll say things he doesn't mean if Ross tries to curl up close to him.

Trott sleeps fitfully, back aching, waking up in the middle of the night and getting too lost in thought to fall back asleep. He thinks a lot about how he responded, and how Ross probably sees it. The time off because of injury makes him reconsider a lot of things. With the next upcoming Olympic trials, Trott's under a lot of stress. He's expected to perform, and perform well, and if he doesn't meet that expectation...

In the past, he'd battled excess stress by swimming. He'd push harder in the pool to improve his time or swim technique, in the face of his crappy parentage and college assignments, but now, he did that and he got himself injured.

Trott comes to a small realization that having a job that you also use for stress relief isn't productive.

What has he been doing with his life? Does he do anything for himself that isn't related to work? Everything's centered around swimming. Swimming _was_ his life. Until Ross, and then Ross became a satellite orbiting around Trott's lonely Olympic goals. Fuck, he doesn't have any hobbies, or does things for fun. It's work, always work. Even press events and swim camps are work, because he has to put on a persona that the press and the fans will like. He can't have a bad day, because people will talk and speculate. Trott didn't realize how stressful everything was until he sat down and had the time to think about it.

Ross is always telling him to relax and enjoy things- maybe he's right. Maybe all this work is too much. But what is he going to do about it now that he's banned? How is he supposed to find something to do with himself when swimming was his sole interest for the longest time? If he's not quitting, how is he going to scale back his work time and still make the goals he sets?

The next morning, Trott wakes up to the sound of Ross making breakfast. He shuffles into the kitchen, frowning at his sore back, and makes himself a cup of tea. He can feel Ross glancing over at him, like he's going to snap or cry any second. Trott doesn't look him in the eye. He's just sore and tired.

He sits down at the table with a long sigh, and stares at his cup of tea. "I..." he starts, clearing his throat, "I've been...really stressed out lately. And that's what led to me getting myself hurt, and it's stupid, because I should know better. Swimming was an escape for me since I was a kid, but by turning my career into it, I lost my strategy for stress relief."

Trott rubs his face with his hand and sighs again. "I shouldn't have yelled, Ross. I'm sorry. I know you do all this for me because you care, but right now it's hard. I have to be able to do things for myself, and I don't want you to feel obligated to take care of me all the time or fix my screw ups. Because you can't. There's not enough time in the world, and my problems are my own. Sometimes I just need you- you've always been supportive, and that means the world to me. But you don't have to support me by doing everything for me." Trott takes a shaky breath, trying to keep from crying. "I'm not trying to make this about you- yelling wasn't the answer, I know- I've been mad at myself since I got hurt, and I took it out on you. And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. You do so much for me, and I...I don't know how to be...how to be the person you want me to be. I'm too obsessed with- with my _job_. It's a lot of work, and that's worth it but right now...everything feels like too much, and I don't want to fail, and I need you and I love you, but I don't know what to do."

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross agonizes about his decision not to go downstairs when he sees Trott asleep on the couch. He curses himself internally. He should have slept on the couch, or the guest room, or something. Trott's going to be miserable when he wakes up, and Ross feels like it is his fault. He tries to be quiet, starting the kettle and pulling out some leftover stir fry vegetables. Whisks some eggs to make frittatas, any excuse to have salsa on his breakfast. When Trott shuffles in, Ross tries to keep himself silent. Trott's never very talkative in the morning, and Ross is hyper conscious of the silence. Trott begins talking, and Ross is still watching the frittata in the oven. He listens as he pops Trott's breakfast onto a plate and carries it to the table before starting his own frittata.

"I love you too, Trott." Ross pours eggs into the pan. He watches them bubble at the edges and lets it cook for a few minutes before putting it in the oven. Thinks maybe he should just buy a second skillet so he could make these two at a time.

"You don't have to be anyone other than who you are, Trott. " Ross sits at the table, feeling sad about how miserable Trott sounds. "I love you and I'm proud of you, but I don't love you just because you can swim fast. I'd still be in love with you if you quit tomorrow."

Trott looks at him for a long minute, before starting to eat his breakfast.

"I'll try not to hover so much." Ross pokes his plate with a fork. "I'm sorry. I just want to take care of you, because there's nothing I can do to help you with swimming." He's been trying so hard to be everything Trott needs, to make up for his shitty parents, to give him all the advantage Ross can. Because of course he thinks Trott is the best and wants everyone to see it. Maybe his mom was right, that he's too emotionally tangled up in this and too wrapped up in Trott's life over his own. It's quiet while they eat. Ross is thinking about how maybe Trott would like some time alone.

"I have to go to the office for a bit, punch some buttons and check on a project." Ross puts his plate in the dishwasher and wipes out the pan, tidying up a little so Trott doesn't have to. He wants to tell Trott to go to bed and lay down, or take a bath, but he stops himself. Ross isn't sure what is the best thing to do. But maybe he just needs to be away from the pool and everything. Maybe he needs Ross not trying to find solutions.

"Call me if you want me to pick anything up?" Ross tries to conceal that he still feels sad and uncertain of what to do. He smiles, even if he doesn't quite feel it. Waits until he gets to the parking garage at work, where he just sits in the car for half an hour telling himself it is dumb to feel so upset about this. That Trott apologized for the yelling, and everything's fine. Except it isn't quite, because Trott's so unhappy and Ross doesn't know what to do, and he can't fix anything. He's used to being able to deal with his worry by doing something, having a plan. This is worse than the week after the big US meet last year when Trott was moody and cranky about losing the top spot.

Ross wonders if they should go away for a few days, while Trott recovers. If Trott would rather some time alone. He feels strangely uncertain, not knowing what Trott wants him to do, and wondering if he's doing too much. Hesitant to say anything, in case it feels too overbearing for him to try to suggest something. Goes up to his desk, checking on some renderings and just sits there mostly. Wants to call someone and talk but also doesn't because he doesn't want to have to say he had a fight with Trott, and Trott's unhappy, and everything feels terrible. Trott hasn't texted. Ross wants to go home, but maybe Trott needs the time alone. Forces himself out of the office, sits in his car again for a bit.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Ross finds Trott in bed when he arrives home. Curled in sheets, with an arm over his face. He lowers it when Ross sits down on the edge of the bed.

Trott looks miserable and tired, and there's nothing Ross wants more than to lay beside him, hold him close, and kiss him. But he stops himself.

"I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No...I tried to get some rest, because I don't feel like doing much, but I haven't slept any."

"How're you feeling?" Ross asks gently, because he still cares, still wants to show that, but doesn't know how.

Trott sighs. There's a long pause, as if there's more than he can put words to. "Sore," he mumbles at last.

"Is there anything you want me to do?" Ross figures the least he can do is ask.

Trott is quiet for a long moment. "I did some stretches earlier, while you were gone, and that helped some, but...could you get me a glass of water and some ibuprofen? And then just...lay down with me? At least until I can walk around without my back pain flaring up."

Ross nods and does so quietly. Trott swallows down the ibuprofen and sips his water as Ross lays down next to him.

"Trott?"

"Hmm." Trott sets his glass down on the bedside table and winces as he shifts under the covers again. He meets Ross' eyes.

Ross looks between the two of them, almost too afraid of upsetting Trott to move any closer. He reaches out and entwines their fingers over the comforter. "Trott...I want things to be okay. I want you to be happy, and I want us to be happy together, and I want everything to work out alright. But I know it's not okay right now. And though I don't like to see you hurting, I'm trying to be okay with things being...hard. It'll get better, just like you'll heal up and go back to chasing your dreams...we'll figure this out together, you know?"

"I know..." Trott whispers, staring down at their hands and the rings they wear. "I don't know if that makes it easier, but, I know."

"I love you." Ross adds, kissing Trott's forehead.

Trott smiles wearily. "I know. I know that, too."

"You know how I knew, when we started seeing each other?" Ross starts, "I knew I loved you when I went to your first swim meet of the summer. And you met me outside the locker rooms, and absolutely beamed."

"I was surprised you came." Trott says with a smile.

"Yeah. I hugged you, a congrats on the tip of my tongue, and you said, 'I can't believe you're here.' I told you I couldn't have missed it for the world. Your smile was infectious, and I knew then that I wanted to be by your side in any way I could. I wanted to see you that happy, and I do. I see it when we go to bed. I see it when you come home from work. I see it on movie nights. I saw it when I married you, and when we moved into our house together." Ross smiles back, stroking his thumb over the back of Trott's hand. "I want to be a part of your life even when you're not smiling, even when things are hard. Especially then. You're worth cheering for, Trott, always. You're worth winning for and losing for. But as big of a part that swimming is in your life, it's not everything. And I love everything just as much."

 

Trott limits the photos he posts that have himself and Ross in them. Ross occasionally gets sent nasty comments, or trolled by people who don't like Trott for whatever reason. Trott feels lucky that they live in a decent area where they're hardly recognized in public. Ross does most of the shopping, and has only been recognized a few times. For Trott, it happens more often, and like he does with the press, he puts on a face and a friendly personality. He's just another person- going out to pick up some eggs, milk, and a loaf of bread shouldn't be seen as so out of the ordinary to other people.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross shrugs off most of the weird things online. It only really bothers him when it happens in person. Even then it isn't always the homophobic stuff. It's the girls and guys who so blatantly try to give Trott hotel room keys or phone numbers, even when he's standing right there. Ross finds it very hard to control his expression when that happens. It annoys him, because it feels like they're saying "You're not good enough for Trott." It startles Ross, how angry it makes him feel.

"Ross, I'm not banging swim groupies," Trott says. They're in an elevator, going up to Ross' hotel room to change before they grab dinner.

"I know that." Ross frowns at the elevator mirror. Trott tugs on his arm until he turns around and lets Trott put an arm around him.

"Hey. Look at me."

Ross stubbornly stares over Trott's shoulder, not quite meeting his eyes. The door chimes and opens on their floor. Ross hurries them along to his room.

"Ross," Trott sighs once the hotel door has swung shut. "Talk to me."

"It's stupid," Ross mutters. "But I absolutely hate that I can be right there, and it still happens."

"Do you think I'm really going to be tempted by some stranger offering to blow me?" Trott asks, trying not sound amused.

"No! It just feels shitty Trott, and I don't like it."

"I'll take an unsolicited dick pic or a blow job offer over that woman last year who threw a Bible at us."

"I guess." Ross shrugs. "At least security throws those people out." He flops on the hotel bed with a sigh. Trott joins him, snuggling into his side. They lay there for fifteen minutes or so. Trott's pleasantly tired from the day's events.

"Well, there's only one thing left to do," Trott murmurs, tugging Ross' shirt up.

"What?" Ross opens his eyes.

"Thanking my husband for showing up to cheer at qualifying rounds." Trott kisses him, sliding his hand into Ross' jeans.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** "I didn't know my attendance awarded me hand jobs." Ross quips mid-kiss.

Trott chuckles and kisses down Ross' neck, dragging aside the collar of his t-shirt to bite a mark under his collarbone. "With such a perfect attendance record, how can I resist?"

Ross shivers and moans a little, rocking his hips into Trott's touch. "Is that reward good for everyone who goes to your meets?"

"Nope," Trott answers with a smirk, "Just you."

 

 **Threeplusfire:** While Trott heals up, Ross works hard at curbing his immediate reactions to try and fix things. He tries to ask Trott first, if he needs anything, and tries not to hover or leap to do things. It's so hard, especially when Trott's in pain. He resists the urge to take time off work to stay home with him, telling himself Trott's not an invalid and he'll be okay for the day. He does cave and order pizza for dinner, so there's leftovers for lunch. Makes sure there's ibuprofen out on the counter.

Trott spends some time stretched on the floor, propping his head up on a couple pillows and playing one of Ross' video games. Thinks he needs a hobby or something to do that's as far from swimming as possible. Not sure what to do. But the game is distracting enough for an afternoon or two.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott browses through hobby-related classes online. Ross cooks enough for the two of them, so Trott doesn't want to take cooking classes. Knitting and crocheting don't interest him at all. He thinks about a drawing class, about a few days his first year of college, where he'd sit in the quad and draw the trees. He wasn't particularly skilled, but it could be a hobby.

Trott scrolls down the page, skimming the section about art classes. There's painting, drawing, ceramics... He'd never done any pottery before, so that sounded interesting. And if he gets frustrated stress-wise, he can smash up some pots.

Trott signs up for one of the weekend afternoon slots, and then opens up Netflix on his computer to find something interesting to watch.

Ross encourages Trott's search for a hobby, but remains neutral on what he thinks he should do. Trott talks about mentioning his stress levels to his coaches to see what their opinion is. Too much stress isn't a good thing, physically and mentally. He doesn't want it to become a bigger problem than it already is.

  


**Threeplusfire:** Trott tells Ross he's signed up for a thing, but makes it clear he doesn't want to actually talk about it or show Ross what he's doing. He feels strange, learning to do something. Worried a little about being terrible. Wondering if he'll just feel dumb and restless. Hoping it is good, or fun, or interesting. But it's so much to think about, and he's not ready to acknowledge it. Ross nods, and agrees not to ask unless Trott brings it up. 

Zoey and Fiona are both encouraging about him doing something for himself that isn't swimming. They don't say it outright, but Trott knows they want him to have a fall back. He's completely committed to the next Olympics though, in his heart. He goes for rounds of doctor visits and physiotherapy. Comes home exhausted and sore. Ross makes his favorite dinner. 

The ceramics class is less intimidating or silly than he expected. Trott imagined some ancient hippie teaching the class, but it's a dry and serious woman with a pony tail. No one recognizes him and that's another relief. They start making simple things, rolling out long snakes of clay and coiling them around to make cups or pots or bowls, depending on how wobbly the sides turn out.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Making things out of clay is calming. He doesn't need to talk to anyone or be social. He can just focus on his work. It's nice to have a quiet time to think. The room isn't particularly noisy except for the occasional hushed conversation or the sound of clay thudding on the tables.

When the instructor isn't helping other students, she's throwing clay on the pottery wheel.

Trott watches in interest. He knows it's not as easy as it looks, and he's just a beginner otherwise, but he wants to ask.

The instructor explains when he does, and shows him what she's doing and why.

It requires a lot of patience.

Trott feels conflicted, slightly, that he's turning his hobby into what swimming was for him. But challenge and goals are okay to have outside the pool, aren't they?

The second session, they cut clay into slabs to make boxes or plates, and paint glaze onto the dried pottery from last time.

Trott asks if he can give the pottery wheel a shot, and the instructor gives him the go ahead. Pressing a solid, very wet ball of clay in the center of the wheel, and using his hands to try to shape it. Centering the clay with his thumbs goes alright, but when he goes to draw up the walls, they crumple inward every time. Trott keeps trying. His hands burn on the wheel when there's not enough water. The instructor comes over and gives him pointers every so often. He doesn't end up with anything to dry at the end of the session, but he doesn't feel like he needed to. He joined the class for something to do, not something to get at the end. It reminds him of when his only goal in swimming was to be faster. Now it's more Olympic medals, and that changes things.

 

Each class, Trott works on regular hand-built things, pinch pots and coil pots mostly. Some he glazes, others he paints, and sometimes tries to carve designs into them before they're fired in the kiln. He works on throwing when he gets tired of everything else.

It seems like everyone has work that's better than his. Other people in the class make giant coil pots and intricately designed things. Trott has a hard time trying to make his work look perfect, and realizes that he really doesn't need to. No one's graded on it. No one cares if he makes shitty stuff. The class is more about self improvement.

Trott remembers when he started swimming competitively- his times weren't as fast as they were now. He got to where he was by working hard and often to improve. It's hard to do things for himself for fun, that isn't swimming-related.

 

As the workshop nears the end, Trott finishes his recovery and is set to start training again. The center the class was held at has open hours on the weekend, so he could continue his hobby if he wanted to. He's itching to get back to training, because he has goals he wants to make, but he's not sure if it's the right approach anymore. Maybe he should be thinking about times, not just medals.

Trott brings home a box full of wobbly looking pots and shows them to Ross.

"I...made these. Some of them are rather crap, but..."

"Well, they certainly have character." Ross chuckles, picking up a very tilted cup and turning it around in his hand. Trott watches him put it back in the box.

"There's one for you in here, too." He pushes aside some of the pots to take out the one for Ross. It was the only pot he'd thrown that came out decently and survived two trips through the kiln.

Trott carefully hands over the bowl, glossy and smooth, glazed in a bright, fiery red and speckled in black and gray.

"Wow...you made this?" Ross asks.

Trott nods. "I thought you might like the color."

"This is great, Trott. I like it a lot..."

 

 **Threeplusfire:** The moment Trott realizes he isn't in competition with anyone for making the best pot is a strange one. It's hard to imagine. Everything he's done for the past decade has been competitive. It feels weird, and he struggles to let himself just do things. Part of Trott's success has been his drive, his discipline and willingness to put everything else aside.

Ross aches to ask him about the class. He bites his tongue, not even saying anything when Trott comes home looking pensive or puzzled or teasing him about the faint smear of clay just over his eyebrow. He knows Trott's struggling to figure something out internally, and needs time to think it over without Ross' opinion or questions. It's hard, because Ross wants to talk about it.

When Trott brings home his box of wonky ceramics, Ross is thrilled. Finally, some idea of what Trott's been doing. He's hoping it was good for Trott.

"Was it fun?" Ross asks, choosing his words carefully. He turns the bowl in his hands.

"Sort of." Trott shrugs. "Yeah."

"Good." Ross wipes off a little of the dust on the bowl and sets it on the kitchen bar. "I like how bright it is. I also kind of want to fill it with ice cream."

"That is way too big to be an ice cream bowl."

"Anything is an ice cream bowl if you put your mind to it, Trott." Ross keeps a straight face only barely.

Trott snorts, and carries his box of ceramics into the office just off the living room. He sets it beside the glass fronted cabinet where all his medals and awards live. Not quite sure what to do with them yet. He can hear Ross moving around in the kitchen, and Trott stands there looking at the box and the cabinet for a few long minutes. Sticks the flyer with the hours of the center on the desk.

Ross uses the bowl for fruit, so he can keep it out on the counter.

Fiona eases him back into training, and makes Trott go to yoga once or twice a week. His first swim feels wonderful, but he's slow and Trott has to fight an internal panic. He throws himself back into training with grim determination.

At the training center, Trott has sessions with one of the sport psychologists about managing his recovery and his re entry to training. They talk about the pressures of the upcoming Olympic trials and qualifications, and about managing his pain and physical well being. There's something soothing about it being treated as just another thing, like his lungs or his shoulders, even if it is intangible. The psychologist encourages him to keep doing something outside of the training and sport that's just for him and has nothing to do with competing.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** When he meets Ross in the kitchen again, the bowl is in the middle of the table and Ross is getting things out of the fridge for dinner.

Trott leans up against the counter, watching him. There's a weird tension lingering since their argument. Talking with the psychologist has helped settle some feelings about it. Trott still doesn't have everything sorted in his head, but it'll be easier when he gets back on a training schedule.

Ross sets out some frozen chicken breast and some vegetables onto the counter. He moves towards the pantry but Trott intercepts him with a hug.

"Trott?" Ross asks gently.

"Just...wanted a hug." Trott says into Ross' shirt.

"Okay." Ross kisses the top of his head. His arms tighten comfortably around him, warm and familiar.

They stand like that for a little while, just holding each other in the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some music that was inspiring during the writing
> 
> Too Much Is Never Enough - Florence + The Machine  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bD6sTDH9Zdc
> 
> Hamburg Song - Keane  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m5ti4OERTiw


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for minor character death

**Ghostofgatsby:** Trott's training slowly increases as he gets back to where he was. He fills his weekends with occasional meetings with the psychologist, and making ceramic things at the arts center.

One of the afternoons he gets home, Ross is sitting in the living room, playing a video game. Trott sits down beside him, watching for a while and thinking. Ross has scaled back a lot of things he does for Trott, a lot of the things he asks about. The space has been sort of nice. He isn't pressured to talk about anything, but it feels like there's a distance between them. That Ross is holding back for Trott's sake. Trott would think maybe it's because he isn't interested, but that isn't true. He knows Ross well enough that he can read his face when he's curious.

Trott looks over at Ross, watching the way his eyes dart back and forth as they follow the video game character on screen. He wonders if Ross really knows how much he does appreciate him. Appreciates that he's been given space. Appreciates all the things he does to make Trott's life easier, and to support him.

Sure, they made the choice to be together, and they choose that because of how much they care for one another. But maybe Trott doesn't say it enough.

"Ross?" he says, "Thank you."

Ross' mouth quirks up in a smile, but he pauses his game and turns his head towards Trott. "For what?"

Trott shrugs. "Just thought I should say it."

Ross moves one hand away from the controller and entwines their fingers, squeezing briefly. "Alright. You're welcome, whatever it is."

Ross lets go of his hand to return to his game. Trott looks up at the clock on the wall. "Do you want to go out somewhere for dinner?" he asks, "We can get whatever sounds good to you."

Ross hums. "There was a new sushi place I wanted to try. We could go there? If that's alright?"

"Fine by me."

Ross glances over at him.

Trott shrugs, and answers his unspoken question. "We don't go out that often. I figure you could use a break from cooking for us all the time."

"I do it because I like to cook, not because I have to. But okay. Can we get ice cream?" Ross grins.

Trott smiles. "Yeah, we can get ice cream. My treat."

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott and Ross hold hands, sitting in the booth at the ice cream place Ross likes so much. Trott with a caramel vanilla swirl in a cone. Ross has something ridiculous with marshmallows and cookies crushed into a chocolate mint.

"There's more candy than ice cream in that."

"I like stuff in my ice cream, Trott."

"Or just some ice cream on top of your cookies and candy."

"Look, some of us don't have to worry about how we look in our speedos."

"You don't even own a speedo, Ross."

"Exactly." Ross licks a drip from his cone.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** "If I bought you a speedo, would you wear it?" Trott asks teasingly.

Ross thinks for a moment, eating his ice cream with a conflicted look on his face.

"You can say no." Trott reminds him. He doesn't want Ross to say "fine" just to please him.

Ross nods. "You look better in speedos than I would, Trott. I'd rather buy one for you than buy one for myself." He smirks.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross is slightly self conscious of how not athletic he is. He could probably stop eating so much junk food at work, or make himself exercise. But he doesn't really want to. Maybe he'll give up eating potato chips every afternoon, because he has a little bit of a belly happening now. Ross hates quinoa though. He likes potato chips a lot.

Trott eats more lunches at the center, which means Ross doesn't have to cook/pack/prepare packed lunches for him every day. Plus it means he socializes just a little more with his team mates. Ross feels sad about it, and tells himself not to be selfish. He's free to make himself weird unhealthy lunches, or healthy lunches, or even go out to eat. Ross struggles with a little of finding his own routine, that doesn't lean so heavily on Trott's. He has interests and hobbies and things to do. It just feels weird to not base all his day around Trott's needs. He thinks about his mom telling him to take care of himself too.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott always reassures him he's fine the way he is, but if he wants to be more athletic, that's okay too. He won't make him eat "gross health food" if he doesn't want to.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross has coffee with Gina, going over to watch some show with her. He confides that he's struggling to find the right balance of doing things and giving Trott space.

'He'll be alright if he has to do some things on his own, Ross." Gina looks at him over her glasses. "He's an Olympic medalist, he could make his own breakfast or do some damn laundry. I have to yell at Tom not to leave towels all over and it is the bane of my existence."

"I know," Ross sighs. He leans back in the recliner and puts his feet up.

"We don't have to be perfect little housewives," Gina points out. "Or house husbands."

"It's not that. I just want to help and I can't do anything to actually help."

"He wants to do it himself." Gina nods.

"He said I was smothering him, trying to always be on top of everything."

"So don't be. If he misses it, he'll ask you to start again."

"I guess." Ross sighs again. "It just feels weird."

"I don't think Trott wants a Polly Perfect homemaker husband." Gina picks up her laptop. "He just wants you."

Ross thinks about that, while the show starts.

 

Trott brings home his newest training diet, in the lead up to one of the big qualifying meets. Ross makes grocery lists, asks if Trott wants to go to the store with him. Trying to make a meal plan with Trott, asking him more what he wants to do about breakfast and lunch rather than just making plans off the list.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Ross and Trott go to the store together. Trott lets Ross have most of the choice as far as meals go, but suggests some recipes he wants to try, and ones that he'd like more often than others. He pushes the cart around while Ross gets ingredients and occasionally asks him which looks better. Trott adds another bag of quinoa to their cart while Ross averts his eyes. After the store, they stop by the farmer's market and get a bunch of fresh fruit.

  

 **Threeplusfire:** The big national meet sees Trott smashing his old times, shaving off seconds. He's doing better than expected, even coming off an injury. The press plays up their expectations.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Breaking his old records feels exhilarating. Ross told him in the past to slow down and take things a little easy here and there. Trott finally took his advice, and now things are turning out better than he expected. It's like he's back on the swim team in high school, trying to improve his time and technique. He has that feeling again, of wanting that success and chasing after it, but it's not just Olympic medals anymore. It's self improvement, in all aspects of his life- not just swimming- because every part is important.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** When Trott smashes his competition and his own record in the national meet, Ross is ecstatic for him. The relay team has a new kid on it, still in college, and they're unstoppable. Ross and Gina jump up and down in the stands, cheering.

Outside the locker rooms after, Ross sweeps Trott into a hug, almost picking him up.

"The fastest trout on legs," Ross jokes. Trott groans and pushes at him.

"Not your terrible jokes again."

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** "You married me, Trott, you're going to have to put up with my terrible jokes."

Trott groans. "Well, at least you're a good kisser."

"Olympic medalist approved!" Ross grins.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** It's Ross' favorite joke. Everything is Olympic medalist approved, unless it's very specifically Not Olympic Medalist Approved.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** He's glad Trott is being more social with his team mates. It makes Ross wonder what some of his college friends are up to, thinking about contacting them over Skype or Steam to see if they can get an online game together. Trott picking up a hobby makes Ross realize he does a lot that revolves around Trott. Even his friend Gina is involved in this weird Olympic swim team life.

Ross goes out and browses a few Game Stops and video stores one afternoon. He picks up a couple games and a movie they don't own, with the aim to get lost in them for a little while. There are a lot of video games he never played when they were released, too busy travelling with Trott and taking care of things. He starts making a few friends online and playing games every so often. Behind a username, nobody knows Ross is the husband of an Olympic athlete, they just badger him about being shit at video games.

Ross and Gina pick a regular spot in the stands, so Trott and Tom know where to spot them. They share a plate of nachos from the concessions and casually comment upon everyone's swim attire.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** There is a very certain relief in online games where he's just his ridiculous user name and his blue streak swearing when he pulls off a good shot. Ross enjoys it. There have been so many times he's been wary of people asking him about Trott, and no one here knows or cares. All they care about is how good or bad he is on any given day. Ross plays GTA online, and he's fairly certain half his crew are teenagers. Makes him wonder if his nieces and nephews are playing and resolves not to say anything to his sister. She would only freak out about it.

The build up to the next games in Tokyo is intense. Trott avoids most of the pre-games press, preferring to concentrate on his training. He does one or two interviews, but that's it. He wants nothing between him and his goals, in his head.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott spends more time doing yoga, even though he doesn't like it. He tries to clear his mind when he does all his stretches, not trying to let any worry or stress get in the way of what he wants.

He indulges in buying a few things for home, for himself and Ross. Some new throw pillows for the couch. Some outdoor lanterns for their porch. Nice smelling massage oil.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** "You smell like dessert," Ross murmurs as he rubs Trott's back.

"No biting," Trott says in a sleepy voice.

"Not even sexy biting?"

"Not even sexy biting."

Ross kisses the back of his neck instead as Trott dozes.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** The big deadline gets closer and closer, and Trott keeps his head in a positive place. If he works hard, and takes time for himself, and believes he can, he'll succeed. There's a lot of expectation riding on his shoulders, but there's the support of people close to him as well. It'll work out.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott's mom manages to get another letter through to them, sending it to the Olympic Swim Team offices. Someone there forwards it to Trott. He refuses to read it, stuffing it in his duffel bag. Ross finds it on the floor when Trott dumps his bag out by the washing machine.

"Trott?" Ross asks quietly, picking the envelope up off the tile. Trott stares at it, his face carefully blank.

"I didn't open it. Someone at the office did cause it came there."

Ross stands there, uncertainly holding it as if it might catch fire.

"Do you want me to throw it out? Or do you want to keep it?"

"I don't know." Trott crosses his arms, leaning against the wall. He looks sullen.

"I could read it first," Ross offers. "Make sure it's nothing serious."

"I'm not sure if I want to know even if it is serious." Trott is furious in his head. This is the last thing he wants, a distraction like this. He only hopes his mother isn't going to some reporter. He doesn't want a repeat of what happened three years ago.

"You don't have to decide right away." Ross puts the letter on the shelf with the laundry detergent, anchoring it with a bottle of soap. "After dinner. Or later. Whatever."

"Sure." Trott pushes away from the wall and stalks off to the bedroom. Ross watches, aching to follow him. But Trott clearly needs a moment to himself. Ross pulls out dinner, making the weird turkey meatloaf that Trott likes so much. (Ross loves him enough to actually handle ground turkey, which is weird and too squishy. It also has quinoa. Ross doesn't think this should count as meatloaf.) For a moment Ross contemplates covering the whole thing in ketchup the way his mother used to. But he follows the recipe.

[ https://www.wholefoodsmarket.com/recipe/healthy-turkey-meatloaf ](https://www.wholefoodsmarket.com/recipe/healthy-turkey-meatloaf)

Trott still hasn't come downstairs once he's got it in the oven. Ross throws together a salad, lots of green things and some of the pickled beets and a big handful of walnuts. Curiosity is eating at him, and he briefly considers reading the letter. But if it was bad, he would have to say something. It has to be Trott's choice.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** _Chia seeds._ Ross thinks to himself, _You're going to grow grass out of your head like a chia pet, Trott_. He pictures Trott with grass-green hair and chuckles. Keeps following the recipe.

It doesn't look like meatloaf at all when it comes out. He still really wants to slather it in ketchup, but he'll save that for his own plate.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Upstairs, Trott muffles a scream in his pillow. He'd wanted to scream in the car, but he was afraid someone would see him doing it. He's a bit surprised at how rage filled this makes him. He does not have time to deal with his parents and their bullshit. Lays there sideways across the bed, staring at the ceiling. Realizing for the first time that Ross even painted the ceiling the faintest blue. Wondering how he's never seen it before. Trott is suddenly so grateful that Ross is as loving and caring as he is.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott lays in bed, mind magnetized on the letter he knows is sitting in the laundry room. He could return it to the post office and have them stamp it with return-to-sender, or he could shred it unopened. Part of him's too curious about it. He wants to write her back and rant about how she has no right to his life since she gave up on his over a decade ago. But he doesn't want to risk her taking it to the press. He can't imagine it would look good if an Olympic medalist sent their estranged mother a letter with "FUCK OFF" in big bold font.

Trott thinks about Ross' mom, and how she's always been supportive, even before they got married. The same support Ross shows. Ross' family has become his family, and his swim team has become his family. His parents, his real parents, had less meaning to him than the other people in his life.

Ross' mom always said when they were leaving, going home to Colorado, to "Call if you need anything, even if it's just to talk. And take care of yourselves."

Trott takes his phone out of his pocket, staring at his contacts list and thinking. In the kitchen, he can hear the sound of Ross chopping up something.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott forces himself to hit the button before he can talk himself out of it. Ross' mom picks up on the third ring.

"How are you?"

"Hi Mom. Good- well. Not great. How are you?"

"Oh I'm just puttering around. What's going on, sweetheart?" Trott feels his eyes well up a little at the endearment. He explains the letter, his anxiety and conflicted feelings about what to do.

"I think it is going to make you crazy, keeping it there," Laura says. "Decide, one way or the other, if you want to read it or not."

"Yeah," Trott agrees. "I just don't know if it is better or worse not to know."

"You've spent a lot of time not knowing what was happening with her."

"It used to make me more unhappy, when I was younger. Now, I just don't want anything to do with her."

"Sweetheart, you do need to consider that if it is something serious, what you want to do about it. If she's sick and wants to see you." Laura sounds thoughtful. "I'm not going to tell you that blood matters more or anything silly like that. You know it doesn't. You see it every day with Ross."

"Ross has been there for me more than either of my parents," Trott agrees. "You have been there more."

"I think you should spend a day or two considering if you want to keep that door firmly closed, if you're comfortable living without exploring anything behind it." Laura shifts the phone and Trott can hear her pouring ice into a glass. She has a two a day diet Coke habit.

"I don't know. Probably. I mean, I don't think there's anything she can say that will make any difference to me. Mostly I worry about her talking to press about how her terrible, ungrateful son refuses to speak to her..."

"Well," Laura says, over the snap of the soda can. "She can tell people that, but that's not the whole story and it's certainly no one's business. You don't owe anyone an explanation."

"Why is she doing this now?" Trott says, trying not to let himself whine.

"Because bad news always comes at the time you least want or need it."

"Things have been going so well, and it just feels like someone's punched me in the stomach."

"You've been swimming beautifully, Ross says. We're so excited for it. Whatever your mother has to say, it doesn't have anything to do with your life right now."

Trott feels better, having talked to her some. He hangs up with a promise that they'll try to come up for a weekend late in the spring to see them, before things get high intensity for the trials.

Downstairs, Ross is making faces at the meatloaf he's pulled out of the oven.

"Should have put bacon on it," he mutters to himself. Puts a bottle of (real, not sugar free) ketchup on the table while he makes plates for them.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott joins Ross for dinner, thinking about what Ross' mom said, and if he wants to read the letter. He decides the least he can do is read it and see what it says. In the meantime, he talks with Ross about visiting his family for a weekend. Making plans.

"Ross, do you really need half the ketchup bottle on your meatloaf?"

"I was going to use the whole bottle, but I thought I'd save some for you."

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott makes a face at Ross' ketchup consumption.

"It's really good without it, you know."

Ross mutters something.

"What?"

"Chia seeds," Ross says, and swirls his bite in ketchup.

"Okay," Trott says. He can't help smiling at Ross' weird, weird comments sometimes.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** While Ross does the dishes, Trott gets the letter. He sits back down at his seat at the table and turns it over and over in his hands, reading his name and address in his mother's handwriting. He remembers being a kid, reading postcards, wishing she would say something like "I want to visit soon" or "I want you to come visit me" or "I'm coming home." The older he got, the more he began to fear that wasn't possible. And then the letters stopped coming, and that fear came true. Trott had a lot of perspective now that he was an adult, and knew that if his mother _had_ stuck around, she might not have been a better parent anyway. He never really knew her when he was a kid. He doesn't really know her now, and she doesn't know him.

Trott takes a deep breath and wiggles a finger under the envelope flap, ripping it open in jagged sections. There's a frantic feeling to his motions, that whatever lies in this letter is something he should be running from.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott smoothes the letter out on the table. His mother's handwriting looks even more jagged than usual, almost ripping through the yellow legal pad pages. It starts off almost immediately with self pitying statements about how she must be the worst mother in the world, because he won't even talk to her. How she's tried to get in touch so many times, but there's always someone keeping her away. She blames his father, his husband, the swimming association, anyone she can name. It becomes increasingly clear as he reads that his mother is delusional. She talks about things he's quite certain never really happened. She certainly never baked him a birthday cake. Trott starts to wonder if she's sick, or on drugs. It makes him feel weird, dipping into this alternative, unreal perspective on his life. She ends with an avalanche of complaints about her living conditions, her friends, her lack of things that surely Trott can fix. Surely Trott owes her now that he's successful. By the end, Trott's surprised she hasn't flat out named a dollar figure. It wraps up with another half saccharine, half accusing statement of her love and how awful it is that Trott doesn't speak to her.

Trott leans away from the table. Ross is watching him, standing at the kitchen counter.

"Are you okay?" Ross asks. He looks more worried than Trott has seen in since he got hurt.

"Not really." Trott scrubs at his face.

"What did she say?"

Trott just pushes the letter towards Ross. He doesn't want to summarize. He doesn't even know if he can. While Ross reads, Trott gets up and pours himself another cup of the iced green tea from the fridge. He has a moment of disorientation, wondering if he's somehow imagined everything.

"This sounds crazy," Ross says a few minutes later, turning over the paper. Trott settles back into his chair, feeling grateful that Ross sees how weird it is.

"Yeah." Trott holds his cup in both hands, elbows on the table.

"Like, this sounds like she's on drugs."

"I know."

"Is that... something that's possible?"

"I have no earthly idea, Ross." Trott sounds tired. "I hardly know anything about her."

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** "It sounds..." Ross grimaces. "It's like she's trying to make you feel bad for her. I mean, the end there is her trying to use you for financial support. And you don't owe her anything for that. You can't fix relationships with money."

"My dad certainly couldn't..." Trott sighs. "I doubt he knows anything about her, either. Not that he'd care."

Ross hums, looking at the address on the front of the envelope. "Well. We could do some digging. She's an off-Broadway actress, right? She said her living conditions are shit, but we could google this apartment to see if she's telling the truth."

Trott nods. "That's a good idea. It would give me more to work with. I don't know...if I should write her back or not."

"It's up to you. It sounds...well, you know how it sounds. It's like she's blaming all her problems in life on the child she had."

Trott frowns. "Yeah. If I write her back, there's a chance she'll use my response against me, and turn to the press, and it'll be a stupid scandal they'll eat right up. I don't want that. Not with the trials coming up and everything after it. If I don't, this could keep occurring, or get worse."

"If it gets to stalker-level, Trott...honestly, you could get a restraining order." Ross is afraid his mother might do something drastic.

"That would just give the press a field day. She'd probably take me to court just to see if she could get away with a check." Trott drinks his tea, watching Ross look up his mom's address on his phone. The letter makes him feel...uncomfortable, and pressured, like he isn't a "good enough son" because he's not around. He wants to turn the tables on her a bit, because honestly, how does she feel? He dealt with that as a kid, having parents who didn't really give a shit, having parents who didn't want a part of his life. And now? She just wants his success; she wants him as a trophy to show off. If she really wanted to rebuild some sort of relationship of something, she'd just refer to him as her son, not her _Olympic medalist son_. It makes Trott feel sick.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross is troubled, angry and worried.

"I don't know anything about New York, but Google maps doesn't make this look terrible. It's Brooklyn right? Everyone eats kale and buys fancy mayo and drinks juice on their way to yoga class there." Ross squints at his phone, looking at the building.

"You watch too much TV," Trott sighs. He takes the phone to look at it. It probably costs a lot to live in Brooklyn, but nothing about the building or the neighborhood seemed outwardly dodgy. No telling what was inside though. His brain spun through numerous unpleasant possibilities, and the likelihood of the press picking up his mother for a story.

Ross takes the phone back and spends a few minutes googling, trying to find something. He searches Trott's mother's name. There's the articles from a few years ago, a few scattered newspapers mentioning her in shows, a notice for a gallery exhibit, but not much else.

"Is there anyone at the center who gives legal advice?" Ross asks, only half joking.

"Dunno. Maybe."

Ross reaches for his hand and holds it tightly.

 

A couple days go by, and Trott's still trying to figure out what to do. The letter is folded up in a drawer. Trott's dad calls, and breaks the news without much wait. Apparently his mother was hit by a car, crossing the street against the light. She might have been drunk. But she died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. Her wallet had some card listing her ex husband as an emergency contact for some reason. He sounds completely baffled by that detail, as to why anyone would think he'd be responsible for it. Suggests Trott calls them to figure out what to do with her, before offering a half hearted condolence. 

Trott hangs up the phone, feeling weirdly numb. He doesn't know what to think. Part of him feels relieved, and then guilty for feeling relieved. Part of him is sad, and angry. Ross is staring, having watched Trott's end of the shocked conversation.

"She's dead," Trott says. Ross' mouth opens in surprise but nothing comes out. Trott almost laughs, because it's like the universe gave him a perfect out for his problem.

"Trott, I'm sorry." Ross is crouched in front of him, holding his hands. Trott shakes his head, feeling a million miles away.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Without much thought, he finds himself slowly sliding to the floor, back against the kitchen cabinets. Ross is kneeling in front of him, still holding his hands. He says something, but Trott doesn't hear him and just stares dumbly at the floor. Like a flash of lightning, she was gone. He should feel more than he does, but...

And it was just like his dad to let him pick up the pieces.

Trott squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. "I don't-" he chokes briefly, shaking his head. "What the fuck. _What the fuck_." He can't even cry. He knows his hands are shaking by the way Ross is holding them. He feels shell-shocked.

How is he supposed to handle this? How _should_ he be reacting, because...

"I don't understand." He places his face in his hands, and curls up into a ball in Ross' lap, shaking. The guilt washes over him like acid, eating away at all the walls he built to protect himself. Maybe you should have been there. Maybe you could have gotten her some help. Maybe you could have prevented this. Maybe she would have been a better person if her _own fucking son could have_ -

Trott chokes and gasps, not crying but furiously muttering. He's been rambling nonsensically, a litany of fucks and whys and other curses.

Ross rubs his back and shushing him gently.

He doesn't know how long he's like that, but eventually he runs out of words to say. His mouth is dry, his back is sore, and the sun has dipped past the horizon, judging by how much light is coming through the window.

"I shouldn't care." Trott whispers to him. "I shouldn't care, but I do, and I..."

He swallows thickly. He feels like crying, still, but there's only this suffocating feeling of guilt and confusion and anger. Over all of it is numbness, a sense of reality so stark and sudden it doesn't feel real at all.

"The hospital...their number's on the counter. They wanted- I should- they need to- arrangements." He's not making much sense, he knows. Ross keeps rubbing his back anyway.

"Do you want me to make some calls for you?" Ross asks, and once again, Trott feels unbelievably lucky and relieved to have him in his life.

Trott nods, cheek brushing the knee of Ross' jeans. "Yeah. Yeah, if you could."

In the back of his mind, he's cursing at his mom for dying just to get her son's money and attention, just to bury her, and take a toll on his career as well. He feels awful for thinking it, because death like this isn't necessarily planned, and it's a disgusting way of thinking. At the end of the day it was accidental, but regardless, he still has to deal with it. It's like another problem he has to fix, another obstacle to get over. It's a goal, to get better about, but...

Right now...

Right now, he doesn't know how.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross helps Trott up from the floor, holding onto him as if he might slip back down again. He grabs the paper off the counter and shoves it in the pocket of his hoodie.

"Come on," he urges, tugging Trott along gently. He can tell Trott's in pain, mentally and physically. "I'm gonna start a bath for you, okay?"

Trott nods, having run out of words. The weird numb feeling is still distorting everything. He wonders when he'll start crying.

 

Ross starts the bath, and leaves Trott just long enough to make a big plastic cup of the iced green tea from the fridge. When he comes back, Trott's abandoned his clothes on the floor and is huddled in the center of the bath. He looks so small, and Ross hurts to see him like this.

"I'm gonna make some calls." He sets the cup on the edge of the bath. "I'll be in the bedroom, okay?"

Trott nods, silent now.

"Door open, or closed?"

"Closed," Trott says. He doesn't want to find himself trying to figure it out.

"Yell if you need something." Ross kisses the top of his head.

 

Ross stares at his phone for a moment, trying to figure out where to start. He flips open Trott's laptop, sitting on the chaise. While he's looking at the numbers for the hospital, he dials his mom.

"Mom? I need some help."

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Ross tells his mom about the phone call they got that afternoon, and that Trott asked him to make the arrangements for him.

His mom makes a sympathetic noise over the phone. "Trott called and asked for my advice a few days ago, about the letter. I worried that something wasn't right..." she sighs, "he's probably a mess, isn't he."

"He's...yeah." Ross frowns, glancing over at the closed bathroom door. "In shock, mostly."

"Do you want me to go with you two? I'm more than willing to take time off."

"Mom, you don't have to-"

"I know I don't, but that's the kind of person I am. If Trott would like me to be there, I will."

"I don't know...I'll have to ask." Ross sighs.

"Alright, sweetie. You said you have the number for the hospital?"

Ross hums affirmatively, and listens as his mom gives him instructions.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott can vaguely hear the sound of Ross talking. It's comforting to know he is there, and better not to hear what he's saying. The weird swirl of emotions won't stop in his head. The guilt makes him feel like he's twelve years old again.

"We're probably going to have to go there, for a few days. Maybe a week. But I have a list of what we have to do." Ross sits on the floor beside the tub. Trott opens his eyes and looks at Ross.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott stares at the bathwater, seeing his slightly warped reflection below him. At twelve years old he was waiting for a letter or a postcard that never came. His mom dropped out of his life, and he kept asking himself why. What was wrong with him that she didn't want to stick around? The answer was nothing, but that didn't make sense. There had to be a reason, something, anything Trott could blame, so he couldn't find it in himself.

"I don't know if I want to know," he mumbles, "because if I know, I'll worry about it."

Ross frowns down at the list in his hands. "Some of these things I can do, but a few of them I can't, because I'm not next of kin."

Trott nods solemnly. "Which are those?"

"Signing documents, and reading the will."

"I doubt she left me anything. It's not like I was important to her."

"You're important to me." Ross reminds him.

Trott's mouth twitches, but doesn't form a smile. "I know..." he sighs.

"I, um. I called my mom for advice about all of this. She sends her love."

 

**Threeplusfire:**

Ross makes a lot of calls. Finds out which funeral home the hospital contracts with, and gets the body sent there. It's so much easier if he thinks of this as "the body" instead of "Trott's mom." His mom has given him a list of things they'll need to do, to get papers and death certificates. Some of it they can't do over the phone though. Ross does not have high hopes that Trott's mom kept her documents neatly stashed somewhere.

 

Trott goes to bed early, even though he's not really tired. He brushed off the suggestion about calling his coach. He's going in to train tomorrow because fuck his mother and her bullshit, he's not going to sit around the house. Ross is working on finding a flight that's not stupid expensive. He mentioned his mother's offer, and Trott said he'd think about it. He's not sure if it would be better or worse. He just doesn't know. Nothing makes any sense. His brain spins and spins, and he stares at the ceiling in the dark.

 

Downstairs, Ross calls airlines, trying to find one that is sympathetic to a recent death. They have some airline miles, which Ross had planned on using for their trip home to visit family sometime this year. Finally he calls the US swim office and asks someone in the travel department to help him. They're kind about it, and find them a flight the next day that doesn't cost an arm and a leg.

 

Fiona and Zoey are sympathetic. Fiona puts him to work, until he's too tired to care about anything.

"I just don't want to have to talk to reporters about this," Trott says wearily. He knows someone's coming up next week from Sports Illustrated.

"They won't hear anything from us." Zoey looks over her shoulder. "We can get someone to put together a statement and send it to the media and ask them not to contact you."

"I just don't want them to know. I don't want some montage running before the Olympics with a voice over about how I'm 'rising above' her death or some bullshit. I will not be able to keep a straight face."

Fiona smiles wryly.

"You should probably talk to someone in the media office, anyway. Better to be prepared."

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott stops in the media office on his way out, tired and sore and wanting to go home. He gives them the message to pass on if anyone comes asking about his mother, that due to private circumstances he's declining to comment. He shouldn't have to tell everyone his life story. They don't even deserve a "no comment" statement. But this is his life.

 

When Trott gets home, he goes immediately to bed. Ross has to pry him out to eat something, and then they curl up together. Trott just wants him close.

Ross explains that he scheduled a flight for tomorrow to New York, and that they'll have more appointments over the next few days. He's packed a couple carry-ons to take with them, so all they need to do tomorrow is get up and go to the airport.

"The hotel I booked even has a pool, if you want to get up in the morning and do laps."

Trott could cry at that, but he just squeezes his eyes shut. Ross kisses his forehead.

Trott doesn't want to go to New York. It's the place his mother ran to and the place she died, and Trott doesn't feel like he has any part of that. He doesn't want any of it. He doesn't want _any_ of this. It feels so draining.

 

Ross wakes him up early the next morning, gets some breakfast in him, and guides him out the door. The hours go by too quickly for Trott to really pay attention. Going to the airport, catching their flight, layover in Chicago, a quick and unappetizing lunch. The plane lands in New York City, and the sun's already setting. The orange-pink sky reflects in the glass of the skyscrapers, and the sunlight glimmers off the bay, and Trott wishes it wasn't pretty. He wishes it looked desolate and ugly, he wishes it was raining. He wants to hate it.

Trott watches out the window as the flight lands. When they stand up to get their carry-ons, Ross turns Trott towards him. He wipes the tears off Trott's cheeks with his sleeve. He didn't realize he was crying.

As they walk through the terminal, heading towards the exit, Trott catches a glimpse of himself in a reflective surface. "Fuck...I look like shit." His face is flushed, and his eyes are red and bloodshot. "The bags under my eyes could have carried our luggage," he comments.

Ross squeezes his hand.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross looks at him carefully.

"Good thing they didn't make me check you, for having too much carry on luggage then."

Trott gives him a wan smile. Ross' bad jokes are a constant.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Ross holds his hand a lot over the next few days. He stands beside Trott as they talk with the funeral director.

Trott's mother wanted a closed casket funeral, but the director asks if Trott would like to have it open. Trott says no. He doesn't want to, doesn't think he can deal with that. And he doesn't want his last look of her to be...whoever the person in the casket was. He doesn't think seeing it open would make him any more comfortable with the truth.

The funeral director gives them some time alone. Trott lets go of Ross' hand to stand at the head of the closed casket. Ross waits patiently behind him, frowning at the trembling in Trott's hands and the tension in his shoulder blades. He wants to take him back to the hotel and hold him close, but for now, he gives him his space.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** There's a funeral service to plan, but Trott freezes up at the thought of buying a cemetery plot or arranging a headstone. Ross asks the director to give them some brochures and some time to decide. After the terrible morning of visiting the casket, Ross takes Trott back to their hotel and orders room service lunch. It's not the greatest but it is easy.

"Trott," Ross says carefully. "I had an idea."

"What?" Trott picks at his roast beef sandwich.

"You don't have to bury her."

Trott makes a face.

"What the fuck, Ross?"

"I mean, you could have her cremated? And then you could throw her ashes in the river maybe, or they have a place in their cemetery to put urns..." Ross holds up one of the brochures. "I thought it sounded a little easier maybe."

Trott nods, and takes the brochure.

"Unless you think she'd be really unhappy with that."

"Frankly I might do it just to spite her."

Trott has to go through his mother's phone. The funeral home has a box with all her belongings in it. He tries to figure out who might be a friend, listens to some of the voice mails that have piled up over the past few days. Finds her house keys. Finally calls one of the numbers, the one that has called the most. It turns out to be someone from a theater where his mom worked from time to time. He asks them to tell people, lets them know when the memorial service is scheduled. It's more of a wake. Trott doesn't think he has anything to say as a eulogy.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott ends up having her urn placed in the cemetery mausoleum. So she can complain to the rest of the dead that her only son won't visit her ashes. He doesn't carry it himself, too afraid to drop it or something. But the funeral directors place it there, and point it out to him later. But it's not like he's coming back. It feels like closing a chapter. He feels guilty for thinking now he can get on with his life, but...it's his life. It's his choice. She made hers. He has to make his own.

Not many come to the service. A select handful. Some whisper at the back, glancing at Trott, but others come up to him to pay their condolences. The person from the theater in particular does, says a few words.

Trott listens to the pastor recite all the generic things about death, like it's a script, and the audience is the mourners. Fitting, for his mother's theater background. They're all but players on a stage, aren't they? And like Macbeth, the people who visit consider it a tragedy. What a tragic circumstance, they say. How horrible.

But Macbeth wasn't a hero. Nobody was, or is.  _That's_ the moral of the play, not just that Macbeth had it all and lost it all because he ignored the warnings. Your actions determine your circumstances, but everyone dies in the end. It's a morbid thought, a strange surety.

Either way, the living move forward.

  
After they get through the burying services and stuff, Ross' mom flies over. Ross goes to Trott's mom's apartment to try to find the records, and Trott and Ross' mom spend time together. "I've never been to New York, either. Might as well figure out what all the fuss is about. And if it's all terrible, we can complain about it." They go shopping and be tourists for the day. Trott feels like it's weird to do something normal when someone's died, but Ross' mom says you have to. "It's not easy. It doesn't change the hard things you have to do. But it's normal. We all need a dose of normalcy in times like these."

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross' mom walks with Trott in Central Park. Laura is so similar to Ross. It's comforting. They wander around in the Met, look at the paintings and the Egyptian wing and an exhibit of 18th century furniture. They eat lunch in a little Italian place that serves risotto and pizza, that's tiny.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott and Laura meander through Time's Square, staring up at the screens and the lights. Trott tries to picture what it looks like on New Years. He always wondered what it was like on the other side of the tv screen.

Trott snorts to himself, reminded of a conversation when he was a kid.

Laura turns to him in question.

"The only time I ever remember wanting to be here was when I was a kid," Trott explains, "My dad would sit and read reports while I watched tv, and on New Years, I stayed up to watch the ball drop. I remember telling him I wanted to go to New York, to see that, because no one where we lived did a celebration like New York did."

"What did he say?" Laura asks.

Trott laughs. "He frowned and said, 'Your _mother's_ there."

Laura smiles and shakes her head in amusement. "I don't think any of us have seen the ball drop in a major city like that. Maybe someday. Sarah, John, and the kids would like that, I'm sure."

Trott smiles a little wistfully, imagining his niece and nephew's faces lit up watching the fireworks, experiencing something he never has. "Yeah," he agrees, "I think so, too."

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Ross feels weird, prowling through Trott's mother's apartment. He tries to put aside anything he thinks they need to save. Trott's talked to one of his mother's friends from the theater about giving them all her clothes. There's tons of clothes in the place, but it's neater than Ross imagined. He pictured some crowded, messy, potentially filthy apartment. It is crowded, but otherwise almost nice. Ross has a moment of eye rolling at the complaints of being in a terrible place. It's tiny, but not terrible. Ross finds a box under a vanity table, crammed with papers, and starts going through it.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Ross sorts through bill slips, receipts, late payment envelops on utilities and rent, bank statements. Years and years of papers, with varying addresses. Some have coffee-stains. He keeps leafing through. Near the bottom of the pile are divorce papers, and child support payment notices. He goes to lift the rest of the papers out of the box, and his hand catches a metal tin. Inside is a stack of polaroids, somewhat faded from the sun, stuck together, with a dried out rubber band. There's an envelope too, stuffed wide with what looks like letters, overflowing. Ross catches the words "leaving" and "grateful". Some of the letters are in Trott's mom's handwriting, and others aren't.

Ross goes through the rest of the papers, and finds certificates stuck to the last futilely paper-clipped file of divorce papers. "Finally." he sighs to himself. It feels like he's time-traveled almost thirty years in the past.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** It's a huge relief that she is actually broke. There's $3.10 in her bank account and she's behind on a couple credit cards. There's no money and nothing for anyone to fight over. Ross is firm with the landlord about how they won't be paying the back rent, and how the law states debt can't be passed on the way he's threatening. He hires a removal company to clear out the furniture, after her theater friends have taken her clothes. Ross packs a box of things - the papers they need, the letters he found, the stack of polaroids. One of her friends, a tall and elderly drag queen, helped Ross sort through the jewelry box to find the couple things that weren't rhinestones and paste. He tucks those into the box to save - he's not sure if Trott wants anything from this, but it will be easy enough to throw out after he has the chance to decide. Ross snatches the photo albums she has as well. They're full of pasted theater notices and programs, pictures of her in various costumes. He doesn't know if Trott's ever going to look at this, but Ross feels weird just throwing away everything. Trott had refused to go into her apartment. Ross is so glad his mother is in town with them.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** The lack of parental support always felt jarring to Trott. Now that his mom's gone, it makes things stranger to explain. Some people expect everyone to have the cookie-cutter same family that'll always being around, but life doesn't happen that way for everyone. Trott knows this is a thing that he will always have to tell, but that he'll never be able to explain completely. Not everyone understands how it feels to lack a parent. He can't help but think that he's half a step away from being an orphan, and he doesn't know how he feels about that. Maybe he was an orphan anyway, with how little his parents were around in his life. They weren't parents very often- he always had babysitters around when he was little, while his dad was working. Dad was _always_ working. And Mom was never there. His blood relations don't mean much of anything to him, they never did, but the ache is the same. The ache for what could of been. What he could of had.

But he has Ross. And Ross' family. And the support of his coaches, his team, his friends, and a lot of fans.

Honestly, it means more to Trott than his shitty parents ever did.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott and Laura stop in a little shop of macarons. The colors are so vibrant. Trott knows Ross would love this.

"We should get him some," Laura says. "He'll never forgive us otherwise."

They buy a dozen: sour cherry, blackberry jam, blood orange and chocolate, vanilla bean, espresso, and lemon. Laura buys a couple for them to eat as they walk. Trott finds himself looking at people on the street. The usual story is kids run away to cities, to leave their families and live their dreams. But he stayed behind and his mother ran away here. Somewhere he knows that he's not the only person to have lost a parent like this, but he feels very lonely. He's quiet, letting Laura pick the way back.

"Thank you," he says in the elevator. It feels blessedly quiet. The city is so loud.

"Of course." She hugs him tightly.

By the time Ross gets back, Trott's stretched out on the bed asleep. He's so worn out. Ross sticks the box on the table and goes to take a shower.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** On the way out of the shower in only a towel, Ross pauses at the curious dessert box he'd missed on the dresser.

"We bought macarons while we were out," Trott informs him, blinking sleepily and yawning mid sentence. "Brought you back some."

Ross smiles, tipping back the lid and humming as he looks them over.

Trott watches his hand hover for a moment before selecting a blood-orange macaron and taking a bite.

Ross chews slowly, enjoying the texture and taste. "These are pretty good." He comments, replacing the lid. He walks back over, taking his second bite and licking the crumbs and filling from his finger tips, and flops down beside Trott on the bed. "I've never made macarons before, but these make me want to give it a shot."

Trott smiles tiredly. "I'm glad you like them. Or at least one of them."

"I'm sure they're all just as good." Ross murmurs, kissing him gently. "Thank you."

 

 **Threeplusfire:** "No crumbs in the bed," Trott says, rolling over.

"Trott," Ross pleads. "Let me live the dream of eating dessert in a hotel bed while I'm next to a really hot guy."

"When's your date getting here then?"

Ross rolls his eyes and kisses Trott again.

"Let me have a bite, I didn't try that one." Trott nibbles at the macaron.

"Those are really good. Damn." Ross looks at the box.

"We're going out for dinner," Trott reminds him.

"I promise not to ruin my dinner." Ross eats the last bite of macaron and sighs.

They have dinner in a nice restaurant, some place Ross has seen on the food network or in a magazine. He finds it slightly unreal, and his mom does too. She's bemused by the attentiveness of the waiters and the seriousness of it all.

"I feel very under dressed here. Or maybe over dressed." She watches a tall blond woman sweep by on heels, her dress very short and cut perilously deep in the back.

Ross smothers a laugh.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott stares out the window in the restaurant, lost in thought. The sun is setting across the horizon again. They go home tomorrow, catching a late flight out after dinner. Ross' mom is going home, too, but she's made them swear on their firstborn child that they _will_ come visit soon. The trials are coming up, and after that, Tokyo. Trott stares out the window and thinks about his goals. The dream he's had for a long time, still going strong.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** It's strange, being in the city where the buildings chop the horizon line up into so many slivers. Trott feels like half the sky is just a reflection on the glass of other buildings. He's going to be glad to be home, where he can see the mountains again. He's become very fond of them. He wonders what exactly his mother loved here. Whatever it was, it doesn't call to him. Trott feels so tired of all of this, his mother and everything to do with her death. He wants to just go back to his life, his real life and his goals and dreams and plans.

Trott is so grateful Laura came out to stay a few days with him. He makes a note in his phone to remember to send her something. Flowers or one of those ridiculous fruit baskets. It's hard to say out loud, but he hugs her for a long time when they say goodbye.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott sends Laura a flower shaped fruit bouquet. He gets a very nice voicemail in return, that he listens to on his snack break, sitting at the edge of the pool eating yogurt. "-was so sweet of you! I'm sure you're busy right now, working hard, but I just wanted to leave a message. I can't wait to see you and Ross in a month or so! The kids are certainly excited," she chuckles. "Work hard. Take care of yourself. I wish you the very best, sweetheart. When the Olympics come around again, you'll be faster than the rest of them, and get all those shiny gold medals. I'm sure of it. We'll be cheering for you when you do."

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Being home is a huge, huge relief. Trott throws himself back into work, having missed the gym. The hotel's space was adequate, but he's anxious to be back in the pool. At home, Ross shoves the box of Trott's mom's things into the storage space in the basement. It can wait, until Trott feels like looking at any of it.

Trott plows all of his excess emotion into swimming. It feels a bit like high school that way. But at least it drains off the restless energy. His coaches are on him like hawks, watching everything he does. It's intense, but he finds it comforting to have a focus.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** It feels good to be back in Colorado. Trott goes on a lot of walks, finding the outdoors and the city of Colorado Springs to be soothing. This place is home, for him. Colorado Springs, swimming, and Ross.

Trott spends long hours doing laps, and strength training, and stretching exercises. Fiona asks him out of the blue, what he's expecting out of the next Olympics. "I don't know," Trott replies, drying off with a towel, "To do well, I guess?"

"And if you don't?" She raises an eyebrow. The question isn't to suggest he _won't_ , but there's always possibility, isn't there?

Trott shrugs and drapes the towel around his neck. "Keep going?"

Fiona nods. She takes it as a satisfactory answer, and then starts talking about additional routines.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** They take a long weekend and fly home to visit Ross' family during May, about a month before the Olympic trials to set the team roster. There's a big barbecue in the backyard. The kids spill the secret long before any of the adults can bring it up.

"Uncle Trott!" His niece demands his attention as soon as they get to the party. "We're going to Japan to see you!"

"Are you?" Trott smiles and lifts her up in a hug.

Ross raises his eyebrows and looks around for his sister. Trott sits in the grass of the backyard with the kids, telling them how many hours a day he's been swimming.

"So the kids said something.." Ross finds his mom in the kitchen. She makes a face.

"Those little chatterboxes!" Laura laughs and tilts her head for Ross to open the fridge so she can stick the bowl of coleslaw in there.

"Are you serious?"

"Of course I am, honey." She beams, and hands Ross some tomatoes to slice. "We all talked about it, and your father and I have been saving, and your sister too."

Ross stares at her, and Laura gently taps him on the shoulder.

"Watch your fingers, Ross. Anyways, we can't stay the whole time but we should be able to stay for a couple days and see Trott swim. You know how much the kids love that."

"Mom." Ross puts down the knife and hugs her.

Finding out Ross' family plans on going all the way to Japan just to see him swim staggers Trott. He cries, late that night, holding onto Ross. Ross strokes his hair.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** "Mom, this is- this is so great. I knew you'd all be watching on tv, but...it's so great that you're all going to be there." Ross knows how much this means to Trott. It means so much to him, too. And the kids! No wonder they couldn't keep quiet.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Qualifiers are a breeze. There's a new guy in their group, and Trott feels so good about their chances for the relay medal. He's not breaking any records with his qualifying times but he's fast and he feels good about it.

Japan is surreal. It's less overwhelming, having done this before. Trott flies over with his team. Ross is coming a couple days later with his family. It's beautiful and sparkling and so different from anywhere he's been in the past few years. Trott takes lots of pictures on his phone. He was too intent last time to pay much attention to anything around him, but he wants to remember this. Especially the ultra fancy toilets in the athlete's village. He emails a photo to Ross, wishing he could see his face when he looks at the instruction label in six languages.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** The city lights of Tokyo light up the night sky in bright, vibrant colors. There are mountains in the distance, and the view from the hotel room is gorgeous.

The night before the event, Trott and Ross keep to themselves. Trott curls into Ross' arms, strangely calm this time, unlike the last. Neither of them talk much. Ross rubs his hand up and down Trott's side, and kisses his forehead. "I'm proud of you, Trott," he whispers.

And Trott knows, but it means more than he can say.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** The kids are thrilled about the trip, and the bragging rights of their uncle being a famous swimmer. Also the fun of daring each other to eat weird food. Ross takes them for a day so his mother and sister can go shopping, and they buy so much random food. They go to one of those places with the big ice cream parfaits.

It's thrilling to be able to cheer on Trott with his family there. Ross hopes it is good for Trott, especially after this year. When Trott wins a medal in the 400, the kids lose their minds jumping up and down. Ross kind of wishes he could get away with jumping up and down too. When Trott spots them, and waves, Ross' grin is electric. The kids wave their stuffed mascots. Ross' mom has a ridiculous American flag jacket. His dad teases her about it, threatens to bedazzle it with rhinestones.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Ross tries matcha green tea ice cream, and makes a note to himself to suggest it to Trott.

Ross asks his mom where her American-flag cape is, or if he should pin it to her shoulders. He and his dad share a grin.

Ross' mom and sister take a lot of pictures, of them all up in the stands, of the awards ceremonies when Trott gets his medals. They talk a lot about putting them all together in a book and giving each household a copy.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott wins a lot, and the relay sets a new record. He doesn't win every single race, but he wins enough of them. He loves the medals. He loves his wedding ring more, slipping it back on with relief every time. Reporters ask how he feels and Trott just shrugs.

"I feel good. I'm having a great time here with my team, and I'm so glad to have the chance to represent us in the games."

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Trott can't believe the changes the years have brought. He stands by the edge of the pool awaiting the numbers to go through on the scoreboard, knowing all the hard work that's gone into making this possible. He couldn't be happier to have such good people in his life. It doesn't matter what the outcome is...

But when the numbers come through the announcer calls out his name, and the crowd roars around him. He grins as his teammates congratulate him with pats on the back, shaking his shoulder. Trott finds Ross in the stands, and beams, because really, that's all he's ever wanted- it makes the medal worth more than just a victory.

 

When Trott meets up with everyone, he's tired, but happy. He grins at their excited cheering as they spot him coming towards them. The kids somehow have more energy than he does, racing ahead of the adults and crashing into Trott's legs.

"Uncle Trott!" they chorus.

"You got so many!"

"Can I have one?"

Trott laughs. "If you work hard enough, maybe someday you can have one of your own."

"Wow...they're so shiny!"

"Did you hear us in the stands? I cheered really loud..."

Their babbling is non-stop.

"Kids, give Uncle Trott some space, we want to congratulate him, too."

Trott accepts hugs from everyone, saving Ross for last.

"You did great, Trott." Ross whispers in his ear.

Trott holds Ross the tightest.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Having not only Ross, but his (their) family there means so much to Trott. The kids want to hold his medal and exclaim, talking nonstop about the race and the other sports they are going to see. (Ross got them tickets to some track and field stuff.) Everyone hugs him. It's almost too much, but it is wonderful, and Trott feels happier for this medal than he expected. They go out for an early dinner, and Trott eats a giant bowl of udon noodles and shrimp.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** The box of Trott's mom's belongings sits for a long time, collecting dust, somewhat forgotten. It's not touched until winter, after the second Olympics. Trott goes into the basement in search of an extra strand of lights for the outside of the house. Ross was up on a ladder hanging a strand when it died out.

Trott sees the box the minute he goes downstairs, and his foot freezes on the bottom step. He slowly walks over to it, frowning, and coughs as he dusts it off. He peers inside, and doesn't feel like going through whatever they kept. Maybe not ever. Definitely not right now, poor Ross would probably freeze up on the ladder, waiting. Trott finds the lights and goes back to Ross outside.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** The box lives in their basement for a couple years before Trott consciously makes an effort to look at it. He's very good at pretending it doesn't exist.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** It's a rainy day those few years later, that Trott finally goes through it. They needed the storage space back. It was sitting there for long enough.

The photo albums are heavy, thick tomes packed with billfolds and flyers, pictures of his mother in costume. The first play is from a tiny theatre back home, a year before his was born. He flips through the albums, but it doesn't interest him. He never really knew the woman in the photos; it feels like it's someone elses life, and he has no opinion on it.

None of the jewelry he wants, either. He makes a couple phonecalls, asks the former theatre his mother started at if they wanted the scrapbooks, and promised to send them off. The jewelry, he sells, and donates the money to the children's theatre program at the arts center.

The letters are a mess. Trott skims through a handful before just giving up. His parents arguing back and forth, complaining about child support and dumb garbage over twenty years in the past. He throws them out.

At the bottom of the box was a stack of polaroids, and that, at least, is what Trott thinks was worth keeping. There are photos of his parents when they got married, when his mom was pregnant, and in the hospital when he was born. Everything after those are school photos. Trott assumes this was what his dad sent her every year. He smirks at his dorky glasses, reading the script at the bottom of each picture. "Chris Trott, age 8." and "Chris Trott, age 9."

The pictures stop at age 12.

Trott collects up the polaroids, and throws everything else back in the box to get rid of. He turns off the light and carries it up out of the basement.

 

 **Threeplusfire:** When Trott finally sorts through it all, he realizes he will never know the true and complete story. He knows almost nothing about what his mother really loved, what drove her or why she did anything. Even in the letters between his parents there's so much back and forth it is impossible to tell. He tells himself that he has to make peace with the idea that he won't ever know. That it is okay. He doesn't depend on these people anymore, and hasn't for a long time. He's built himself a different life, put himself where he is now.

It feels a little melodramatic, but Trott burns the letters in their fireplace before Ross gets home. But it is cathartic. He sticks the photos in his desk.

 

Ross comes home with a car full of groceries. For Ross, the holidays are the most important time of the year, second only perhaps to the Olympics. But for the holidays Ross can cook and bake and decorate. Trott teases him a little, and Ross just points a spatula at him.

"Go ahead and laugh all you want. But you're going to love this when it is done."

"I love you, even if you are a little scary Martha Stewart right now."

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** "If Martha Stewart had a gay twin with an Olympic medalist husband, maybe."

"You look nothing like her, Ross."

Ross spends hours and hours baking and cooking. The house smells of spices, vanilla, and sugar. Trott finishes wrapping presents and joins Ross in the kitchen, smiling at him as he dances around singing along with the radio.

 

 **Threeplusfire:**  Ross insists on a tree, and lights on the house. It's what he grew up with, and he relishes the holidays. They're having family Christmas in Colorado this year. Ross is very excited to have everyone here. He bakes dozens of cookies. Gina comes over and helps by leaning on the kitchen counter eating frosting. Ross sends her home with a container of cookies, because he's working through a huge number of recipes and there's more cookies than counter space.

"I'm going to turn into a gingerbread man and melt in the pool," Trott says, eating his third cookie.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** It's very late in a wintry evening, when they're curled up by the fire, that Trott brings it up.

"Ross...what do you think about kids?"

"Kids?" Ross raises an eyebrow. "As in...kids of our own?"

"Maybe." It seems like a big thing to say even that much. "I've just been thinking a little. Maybe it's not a thing we'll do, ever, or maybe right now isn't really the time for it, but...I was just thinking about family." Trott turns his head to look at Ross. "Because I love your family, and I love you."

Ross is quiet for a long moment, considering. "When?"

Trott shrugs. "I don't know when, Ross. Maybe in a few years? After a couple more Olympics? It's not like we're running out of time or anything. It's just...something that I was thinking about, I guess."

"One, or two?" Ross asks.

"Well, if we only have one, they're going to be ridiculously spoiled."

"Spoiled?"

"You're going to spoil our children, Ross."

Ross tuts. "I'm not going to spoil them rotten. I have restraints."

"Mhm, and tell me more about our niece and nephew?" Trott chuckles.

Ross smiles and shakes his head. "How many, then? Two?"

Trott thinks for a moment, nodding slowly. "...Two. So they're never alone. But only one at a time- I don't want to have to deal with twins or siblings when we'd be new parents."

 

 **Threeplusfire:** Trott is a fearsome competitor, and breaks ground as one of the longest competing swimmers on the Olympic team. He rolls his eyes at reporters who ask if he feels too old, compared to kids half his age in the pool. When he talks to Zoey, she tells him to do what makes him happy as long as he can. But not to push his body to the breaking point.

Ross spends a lot of time turning the guest bedroom into a room for their child. Adopting is hard, and a long process. He takes out some of his tension in repainting, picking out furniture and buying a ridiculous set of stuffed fish. Trott opens the box, and groans at the sight of a plush catfish. They argue about names, trying to needle each other with ridiculous suggestions.

Ross leaves his day job when their first child comes home. He picks up some contract work later, stuff he can do remotely. But they're comfortable financially, and it seems worth it. He actually enjoys staying home. Calls his mom so many times in a panic. Laura comes to visit after they've had the baby for a week or so.

 

 **Ghostofgatsby:** Several years later: (I wanted them to have kids just because this was too cute:)

"See a good spot? Hmm...oh, there's Aunt Gina!"

The people around Ross probably think he's talking to himself, but he's talking to his toddler strapped to his chest. Sure, they only talk in one-syllable words, but still. Toddlers are fascinating, if also frustrating and a fuck-ton of work.

They make their way over to Gina, who enthusiastically gets their attention. Ross had been apprehensive about bringing their child along to the Olympics, but they had to cheer Trott on. It's loud here, but he's got a bag full of diapers and too much other parent crap on his back. He's probably over-prepared for any situation, if he's honest. Trott's been the much more chill parent out of the two of them, strangely enough so far. Ross thinks that might change once their kid starts growing up.

They cheer for Trott when he wins gold, Ross waving baby arms of the toddler in the chest harness and smiling at their resultant giggling.

When the day is done, they wait around for Trott in the lounge, both dozing on one of the couches.

"There they are!" Gina shakes his shoulder gently.

Ross rubs his eyes and carefully gets up, watching the toddler strapped to his chest wake up, too.

"Hey, look who it is. Who's that?" He asks quietly, pointing Trott out as the other man makes his way closer.

Their toddler starts waving their arms excitedly. "Pop! Pop-pop! Pop!" He makes grabby hands at Trott.

(Trott and Ross just decided to let their kids call them whatever worked out. Trott popped a balloon at their first birthday party, and their kid associated him with the word "pop" since)

"Hey there sunshine!" Trott greets, lifting them out of the carrier with a grin. The toddler rubs their eyes with a fist. "Looks like someone's sleepy, huh?"

Ross yawns. "Make that two someones."

Trott chuckles and hefts their child higher up onto his hip. The toddler picks up one of Trott's gold medals and starts curiously chomping on it with toothless gums. Trott pecks an amused kiss to their cheek.

"Ready to go?" Ross asks. He takes the medal out of his child's mouth with one hand and brushes Trott's hair out of his eyes with another.

Trott smiles and leans into the touch. "Yeah. Let's go home."

 

 **Threeplusfire:** When their oldest is almost ready to start kindergarten, they adopt a second child. Trott shifts his medals and trophies into the dining room, which reminds him of their old apartment so many years ago. He thinks about the angle of the light, the way it looked glinting on his first olympic medal while he ate breakfast. Ross makes room in their bedroom for Trott's desk, so he has a place for all his paperwork. The second one feels easier, or maybe they've just gotten the hang of it. Trott teaches their kids to love peas, and pretends he doesn't know that Ross lets them eat cookie dough while he bakes.

 

Groaning, Trott collapses onto the bed face first. If he listens, he can hear Ross' voice and the voice of their kids.

He feels the bed dip, and Ross is sitting astride the backs of his legs. His hands push up Trott's shirt, rubbing the sore muscles of his lower back.

"I am beat," Trott says, his voice muffled in the bedspread.

"They're getting too big to carry everywhere," Ross laughs. "Maybe we should have taken the wagon to the park with us." The kids, worn out, demanding to be carried home.

Ross massages Trott's back, his hands sure and gentle. Trott lays there, lulled by the warmth and comfort.

"Are they asleep?"

"Out like lights. We should run them around the park more, this was the easiest bedtime we've had in ages."

Trott hums his agreement. Ross leans over to tug Trott's shirt off, pulling it over his head and dropping it on the floor. He kisses Trott's shoulders.

"Maybe we should take advantage of the quiet..." Ross suggests, kissing the back of Trott's neck.

"And risk waking them up?" laughs Trott. But he rolls over when Ross slides to one side.

"Thank you," Trott says, tracing Ross' cheek. He tries to remember to say that.

"Always, Trott." Ross kisses him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an absolute delight to create, and certainly a good excuse to watch as many swimming events as possible. Working collaboratively with someone is very different from the usually solitary habit of writing. It produces a lot of unexpected things, and is genuinely some of the most fun writing. -Three
> 
> When Three pretty much made a post calling for Olympic AUs, I knew I had to share. It started with a few paragraphs, but continued after that, each of us going back and forth contributing to the lives of these characters and their story. There's something fantastic and satisfying about creating things with other people, seeing the world take shape, with both perspectives having input. It's great, and I enjoy it immensely ^^. -Ghost


End file.
